Gold Awakening
by Chrissiemusa
Summary: When Constance Hardbroom reads a letter that opens the door for Hecketty Broomhead into the school, she never imagined the events that would follow. First WW story, Rated T for safety. Now Complete!
1. The Dry Ink

**Authors Note: Hi Everone, this is my first Worst Witch story so please tell me what you think and how I can improve etc. I would like to personally thank NextChristineDaae and Princess Sammi for their warm welcome to the site and lemondropseverus who convinced me to finally get an account. Enjoy.**

**Chapter 1 – The Dry Ink**

Sunday mornings in the staffroom at Cackle's Academy were always an ugly affair. Teachers scattered in their own directions throughout the day trying to savour their final opportunity for rest before another busy week of lessons began. For Constance Hardbroom the day was for preparation and planning. She never understood why the other teachers didn't prepare as much as she did. Her classes always ran smoothly and to the plan; not a hair would be out of place from her bun or a potion ingredient in the wrong spot on the shelf.

Sitting in silence Constance was working on her lesson plans for the following week. Most teachers would reuse the lessons they already prepared but Hardbroom was not like other teachers. Imogen Drill, the non-witch who didn't have a magical bone in her body. Miss Bat, the eccentric and over the top chanting teacher who always had some sort of strange experimental music playing through the staffroom, and Miss Cackle, the elder headmistress who was nearing retirement every day she spent inside the schools hallowed halls and who enjoyed giving girls second chances to get things right.

Yes, they were all fine in their own little ways but none of them could have been compared to Miss Hardbroom. Hardbroom, the Deputy Headmistress who had ten times the magical capabilities of Imogen Drill, one hundred times the sensibility and strict demeanour of Miss Bat and who never gave second chances for people to get things right, like Miss Cackle, because, if they were paying attention, they would have succeeded the first time.

Miss Hardbroom sat at her desk and continued writing, the ink from her quill drying with each word she wrote while her back remained perfectly straight, shoulders back, her black attire without crease or stain. It was a typical Sunday morning for her alright.

While Miss Hardbroom sat in her potions lab organising her lessons Imogen Drill was running through the forest; the iPod headphones her family bought her for Christmas dangling and dancing when each foot hit the earth. The rhythm of running was almost therapeutic for the sometimes hot-headed PE teacher but it allowed her time to think.

The morning's breeze felt nice on her skin. It was good to have some time to herself, away from the sports shed, staff room or the girls. Although she loved her job dearly there were times when she considered quitting and taking personal training opportunities elsewhere. Miss Cackle had told her that they all had their special part to play but her part was still unclear to even herself. She felt inadequate around her students. The young witches looked to Hardbroom for guidance and strength, and, although they were terrified of her, they had more respect for their potion mistress than they did their PE teacher. It was the difference between her and Constance that always made her feel this inadequacy. Constance used magic and helped students change into creatures, apply their magic to the physical world. PE required running around and nothing from the magical domain.

Leaning against a tree and stealing as much oxygen from the surrounding air as she could Imogen realised just how disconnected from reality she was when she ran. The castles spires were miles away and the morning orange glow of the sun made the castles sandstone walls almost glow with something indescribable in her human vocabulary.

Taking the earpieces from her ears Imogen took another breath as she heard the birds whistle good morning to the sky and the breeze rustle tree leaves; then another sound. Not one of nature but one of man. Imogen looked past the tree to her left, using its thick bark as a cover for her position. Four witches, all wearing their pointy black hats and with brooms in tow were standing in a circle talking between themselves. Imogen didn't recognise three of them but the one she did made the hairs on the back of her neck stand to attention and her skin crawl with fear. It was Constance's tutor from Witch Training College, the only woman she had ever seen instil fear into the normally stoic woman's eyes, the witch who tried to shut down Cackle's Academy. Hecketty Broomhead.

"You understand what you need to do?" Asked one of the other witches making Hecketty nod her head in reply. "Yes, it will be good to catch up with Constance again so to speak," the others began to chuckle between themselves. 'Constance, what do they want with her?' Imogen wondered.

"Good then make sure it is done. Cackle's Academy is a disgrace to the Witches Guild so do whatever it takes to shut it down."

"I will try my best," she scoffed before the other three witches disappeared. Imogen continued to watch as Hecketty stood in the opening alone for a moment as if she was thinking about the possible punishments she would bestow upon those behind the sandstone walls of Castle Overblow then, before Imogens eyes, she disappeared into nothing but air.

With a sigh Imogen stepped away from the tree and plotted the fastest route back to the castle to warn Amelia and Constance to be prepared. Though, her train of thought on the matter and what she would tell the two senior staff members was stopped dead in its tracks by a whispering in her ear. "Witches do not like spies," Imogen felt a pressure on her back and managed to stop her fall using both of her hands. She turned her head to see the vile woman standing above her before she stood to her feet once more. "Mistress Broomhead," she greeted, trying to conjure a civil voice though her feet were telling her to run for the hills and never look back.

"Imogen Drill," she remembered. "I hope you realise that although you have no magic witches can still sense your presence."

"I understand that – "

"Oh do you?" Mistress Broomhead scoffed, taking a sharp inhaling through the nose before she spoke again. "I am sure that non-witches do not like to be spied on either?"

"No they don't not unless there is a good reason– "

"Oh," she smirked. "So you think that you're hiding behind a tree and listening in on others conversations was justified?"

"When it involves my colleagues then yes," Imogen answered, finally given the chance to finish a sentence. "Now if you'll excuse me-"

"Miss Drill!" Broomhead called stopping the PE teacher face the woman again. "Yes?"

"You shouldn't trust Constance so much to protect you."

"I can protect myself," Imogen replied, crossing her arms. "Not that it's any of your business about my personal safety."

"Oh but it is my dear," the edge of her mouth twitching upward slightly.

"What do you mean?"

"You'll see," Hecketty smiled as her eyebrows rose higher into her forehead before she flicked her hands forwards making Imogen land flat on her back, arms by her side. She tried to move but her body refused. Imogen's eyes flashed with fear as they flicked from one side to the other trying to understand why her motions were having no effect, why her limbs felt heavy and non responsive. Mistress Broomhead walked around from Imogen's feet and toward her head, Miss Drills aqua green eyes watching her every move. Broomhead then raised her hands into the air in front of her face and began mouthing words to herself that Imogen didn't understand.

Then, suddenly, a flash of red hit Imogen's eyes and magic began pouring into her body. Every pore and muscle screaming in response. Trying to attack the invasion of her body, trying to resist the substance burning through her body like liquid flame. She struggled desperately like a fish out of water, her legs kicked, her arms flailed, but nothing was working, she was still lying flat on the ground. Broomhead's magical hold over her was too strong.

Finally, after what felt like hours, the magic stopped and Imogen's eyelids slowly drifted closed. "Now to make sure you don't remember anything," Hecketty muttered before she knelt at the top of the non-witches head and placed her in index and middle fingers on each temple. Closing her eyes she focused on sifting through her trivial memories of non-magical existence until the moment she rested by the tree. Then, as if pressing delete on a computer keyboard, she erased her memory clean of their entire conversation before standing to her feet in triumph. "See you soon Constance."

Miss Cackle was reading the morning paper inside her staff room while Davina was dancing in front of her, eating a flower for her breakfast at the same time. She finished another twirl before she took a sip of tea from her cup on the table. Looking to the time on her watch she saw that it was eleven o'clock and Imogen hadn't arrived for breakfast. Usually, she would have finished her run, had a shower and then returned to their staff room to eat something by ten. "Have you seen Imogen, Miss Cackle?" She asked out loud making the headmistress drop her paper and look to Davina over the top of her glasses. "I just thought she would be back by now. I asked her to look at my dance and tell me what she thought of it."

"Maybe she just overslept," Miss Cackle offered returning to look at the paper; secretly not blaming her for giving one of Miss Bats dance displays a miss, before Davina's hand pulled the paper down again. "Or maybe she hasn't come back from her run yet."

With a slight exasperated sigh Amelia looked to the time and had to agree with her eccentric friend. "Check her room first, if she isn't there then take a few of the girls and their broomsticks to check the area." Davina smiled, removing her hand from the paper before she skipped out of the staff room door. Amelia watching her leave with tired eyes, why couldn't the school holidays have started today?

Constance finished her lesson plans and locked the potion lab door behind her before she was flung backwards into the hard wood. "Miss Bat!" Constance yelled making the charming teacher look up to Constance as she got back to her feet. "Might I remind you that being a teacher at Cackle's Academy it is your duty to follow the school rules yourself and that includes any form of movement faster than a walk through the hallways!"

"Sorry Constance but have you seen Imogen?"

"Drill? No I haven't seen her and if she will greet me with the same lack of respect as you have I would rather not see her at all. Excuse me," Constance finished before she walked past Miss Bat and down the hallways to check on the students in the dining hall for breakfast.

Miss Bat walked toward Imogen's room before she knocked frantically on the door for a moment. "Imogen its Davina are you in there?" There was nothing but silence. Another knock and the door creaked open. Davina stepped inside to see the bed was made but her running shoes were missing. Quickly, forgetting about Miss Hardbroom's advice on decorum she skipped down the hallway and into the dining room, immediately met by the senior member of staff's gaze. Carefully she stopped her skipping and walked quickly to the table of students she knew would be able to help. Kneeling between the girls as they said good morning she started to explain. "Mildred, Maud, Fenny and Griz can you go out into the yard and pick up your brooms. I'll meet you at the broom shed."

"But why miss?" Maud questioned as she pushed her glasses further up the bridge of her nose.

"I'll explain later," Miss Bat answered before she walked out of the cafeteria and skipped the rest of the way to the staffroom.

Flying through the air on her broomstick Maud kept her eyes on the trees below. Miss Bat told them that Mrs Drill was missing and, although worried about her PE teacher, wanted nothing but to go to bed and sleep for the rest of the day. Searching through tree after tree, Fenny, Griz and Mildred around her, Miss Bat leading the search party, they combed through the forest with their eyes until Mildred saw the distinct light blue workout gear and white sneakers of their PE teacher. "I see her!" Mildred exclaimed. "Down there between the clearing and the dirt path." Miss Bat and the others all looked to where she was pointing before Miss Bat began her decent, the girls following closely.

Landing Miss Bat dropped her broomstick to the ground as she ran toward the unconscious PE teacher. "Imogen!" She called shaking her shoulders to try and get her awaken. "Imogen can you hear me!" There was still no reply. Feeling for a pulse Mildred knelt down and took a hold of her wrist, counting the beats. "Her pulse is good."

"What do we do now miss?" Asked Maud.

"Any ideas girls?"

"We could walk her back but it's a long way."

"I have an idea," Mildred smiled, standing to her feet with a smile spread across her face. "Fenny, Griz give me your brooms." They both followed her orders before Mildred commanded the brooms to hover and asked Maud to give her a piece of strong vine from a nearby tree. Using the vine she tied the brooms together side by side forming a temporary stretcher. "Well done Mildred!" Miss Bat smiled. "Okay girls help me lift her."Miss Bat took a hold of Imogen's shoulders, supporting her head while Fenny and Griz took one arm each and supported her back and Mildred and Maud helped support her legs. "Ready...3...2...1," The girls all lifted themselves up, keeping the unconscious teacher level as they went. Miss Bat sat on her own broom, before she hit the end of the two brooms and told them "up and away," and they rose into the sky. Millie and Maud watched, carefully praying that their PE teacher wouldn't suddenly wake up and plummet to the Earth.

"Millie you're with me," Maud invited making her best friend sit on the broom next to her as Fenny and Griz tried to command Mildred's banana broom back to school and land in one piece.

Davina flew through the air watching her friend closely. 'What happened to you?' she asked inwardly before she saw the schools courtyard in sight. "Girls we're almost there!"

Amelia took another sip of her tea, trying to decipher the crossword in front of her when the door burst open to reveal a terrified Miss Bat and senior student. "Davina!" She called running forwards and clearing one of the staff lounges for Imogen to lie on. "You can leave now Griselda," Miss Cackle commanded as the student left and shut the door behind her. Kneeling to her side Amelia began to shake the unconscious PE teacher as forcefully as she dared. "Imogen!" She yelled. "Imogen can you hear me?" Nothing but silence. "Davina what happened?"

Miss Bat, at the time, was sitting on the floor having heart palpitations. Her breath was quick as she placed a hand to her chest to try and slow her breathing. "Davina calm down tell me what happened?"

"She... I... the girls... we...,"

"Davina!" Amelia yelled again. "Calm down."

"She... she was just lying there Miss Cackle," she finally said before taking a quick sharp breath. "I couldn't wake her." The sound of groaning from Miss Cackle's left made her turn instantly to see Imogen beginning to rouse. "Imogen!" She called again shaking her. "Come on, wake up for us dear."

Constance Hardbroom walked down the corridor to see a large group of students trying to listen through the door. With the flick of her wrist she zapped the door with a magical attack, causing the students to move two metres away. They turned to see Hardbroom walk to the staff room door. "What, may I ask, could be so interesting in the staff room that you feel the need to stand and block the corridor for?"

"It's Miss Drill," Mildred explained. "She's hurt." Without asking any other questions Hardbroom watched the students. They wondered if she would blink first or they did, scared of what the consequences for blinking in her presence would be. "Well don't just stand there, it's the weekend, don't you have anything better to do or should I give you something?"

"No miss," Maud shook her head. Without another word the group dispersed allowing Constance to finally open the door. When she entered she saw an exhausted Imogen Drill lying on the couch while Amelia had one hand held in hers. Miss Bat had disappeared, she guessed into the supplies closet, her usual hiding spot in times of crisis. "What happened?" Hardbroom began as she closed the door behind her, and then waved her hand again to make the door sound proof.

"I," Imogen replied. She felt strange, like she was forgetting something. Her muscles were sore, unusual because she always warmed up properly before exercise. "I went for a run and I guess I overworked it a little."

"Stay in here and get your strength back. I will explain what happened to the girls later." Amelia sighed before she disappeared from the door and closed it behind her. Walking over to her mailbox Constance shifted through the letters until her heart stopped at the handwriting on the last one. Taking a deep breath she put the other letters on the table before opening the letter to read it. Her eyes grew wider with every word until they were as large as they could go. Her breath was caught in her chest. "Miss Hardbroom?" Davina began, poking her head out from the closet. "Miss Hardbroom what's wrong?" Imogen turned to see the Witch, willing herself to sit up and look to the Deputy Principal who seemed frozen to the floor. It was only then that she noticed it, the flicker of fear that only one witch in the world could possibly cause. "Constance," she tried softly.

Miss Hardbroom finally looked up from the letter she was reading. "Constance, talk to us what's wrong? What does the letter say?" Miss Drill asked fearfully. Hardbroom's hands shook making the letter fall from her now numb fingers before she crossed her arms quickly and disappeared. Standing up and walking over to the letter Imogen read over its contents, her own eyes widening. "What's wrong?" Davina questioned quietly.

"Hecketty Broomhead... is coming back to Cackle's."


	2. Preperation

**AN: I'd like to thank everyone who has reviewed the first chapter and alerted this story :) They all mean a lot to me. Enjoy and tell me what you think.**

**Chapter 2 – Preparation**

Constance Hardbroom was no pushover. She was always the one doing the pushing; whether it was for her students to do the best or to stop them from doing wrong. She was never nervous, anxious or worried... until now. Hardbroom's history with Hecketty Broomhead was not something she liked to think about. In fact, before she started work at Cackle's she tried to remove her memories of her tutor through a potion, not that it worked at all. There was no quick fix or potion that could remove those years of pure torture from her mind. The scars she bore, both mental and physical, would remain on her tainted soul until the day she died. Hecketty Broomhead would never be that kind; she would never allow her a moment of rest. Why did she have to return?

Hecketty Broomhead's last visit almost closed down the school. If it wasn't for the quick and dangerous thinking of Sybil Hallow Constance knew that the castle would no longer stand as a testament to witch education, it would become her torture chamber... Just the thought of Castle Overblow becoming like Broomhead Manor made her body shiver with a combination of fear and anger.

Constance still remembered the rooms, the halls, the locked doors, running in the yards, the night lessons with her tutor watching her every move. Yes, it was her time inside those hallowed halls where girls from the highest witch families roamed desperately wishing for their parents to return and take them home while Constance desperately pleaded with whoever was above the stars to set her free; to give her the courage to escape. Hadn't she endured enough?

Refusing the urge to shatter a defenceless potion bottle perched on her shelf Constance had no choice but to close her fists so tightly her nails left marks in her skin. She was never going to let Cackle's Academy turn into Witch Training College. She wasn't going to give up the castle without a fight. Shaking her head to gain some composure she walked toward the window and watched the girls bustling around the yard, smiles over their faces. They all appeared so innocent, what she was long ago.

A much younger Constance Hardbroom was in a private tutoring session with Hecketty Broomhead. Sitting inside the potion room Constance added the last bit of pond weed to the cauldron and began to stir the mixture as it bubbled and brewed. Mistress Broomhead watching over her shoulder the entire time making her pupil nervous. Checking her potion directions Constance reached over the desk to collect the small glass bottle of newt eyes when a thud on her back made her sit straight in her chair. "Don't slouch Constance!" Broomhead barked. "You never slouch. Have you ever seen a round shouldered witch riding a broomstick?" The question was rhetorical of course. "No I – "

"And you want to know why Constance? It's because it would be a disgrace to Witches everywhere. You never slouch on your broomstick and you never slouch at a desk. Understood?"

"Yes," Constance replied though her voice shook with fear.

"Yes what?" Her head turned slightly sideways, like a cat eyeing off its prey before it struck.

"Yes Mistress Broomhead." With a nod of approval Constance continued to stir the sizzling cauldron ingredients, checking for changes in colour. "Look at your hair!" Broomhead yelled, referring to a single strand that had fallen out of place. "Fix it up girl. A true witch must always look perfect at all times!" She scoffed before watching Constance fix her long hair into the only hairstyle the older Mistress allowed in Witch Training College. The one hair style that Hardbroom would eventually wear on a daily basis to emphasise her authority, her trademark bun.

The biggest problem was while fixing her hair and worrying about her posture she completely forgot about the newt eyes and before she could try to rectify the problem Hecketty Broomhead was already asking her to pour the potion onto a lonely toadstool. Constance did as she was told but instead of watching the toadstool grow ten times its current size it shrunk to the size of a pea. "Pathetic," Broomhead almost spat, leaning over the toadstool next to Constance with her lip curled and teeth and back teeth grinding. "Will you ever get anything right?"

"I tried!" Constance yelled out of turn when the ingredients list Broomhead had been holding smacked against her face. "Never speak out of turn! I thought you had promise girl but look at you. You're a disgrace."

"Please, let me try the potion again. I only forgot about the newt eyes. I can fix it next time."

"No!" Hecketty screamed. "You will learn one day Constance that a witch should always and I mean always get things right the first time. If a girl dares to call herself a witch then she should be able to do any task without a moment's hesitation and get it correct every time without fault!" Constance had never felt so small. It seemed that Mistress Broomhead had grown ten times larger in height making the student feel like an ant on a vast desert land with only the toadstool for company. "Let's move on to spells then. See if you can get that right!"

A knock on the door brought Constance from her memories eye and back to her room in Cackle's Academy. "Yes?" She called a little haphazardly.

"Constance, are you alright?"

"I'm fine Miss Cackle!" She replied wiping a single tear from her eye and taking a deep breath before she walked to the door and opened it, her normal stoic expression meeting the terrified one displayed on Amelia Cackle's face. "But Hecketty Broomhead, she's coming back."

"Yes I am well aware. Was I not the one the letter was addressed to in the first place?"

"Yes," Amelia sighed trying not to look as scared as she felt. She knew the effect that her return would bring on her deputy headmistress. The first time she came to the school Constance completely changed. She wasn't as strong, she was almost... vulnerable. Amelia had tried to get Constance to open up about her past, to befriend her and help her understand that no matter what she was hiding from she would always be there for support. But, as always, Constance Hardbroom was not a fragile flower who needed to talk and hug in order to solve her problems. She was logical, strong, and defensive; her magical ability surpassed any that Amelia had seen before. Constance was more than just her deputy, she was her friend.

"She wants to do another inspection but I think it's more than that." She needed to voice her opinion, state the obvious, try to get Constance to tell her what she could be planning but again she came up dry. "Obviously she has a plan and I don't think it's a friendly visit shared over tea and scones," Miss Hardbroom responded making Amelia nod her head in agreement. "We need to devise a plan of action as soon as possible."

"I need another moment alone Miss Cackle," Hardbroom interjected, looking to the floor as if asking for one moment away from the troubles of the academy was committing a sin. Miss Cackle simply nodded her head and left without another word.

Imogen sat on one of the chairs around the staffroom table with her head in her hands. She had read and re-read the letter again and again. It was only when her eyes passed over each word once more that she wished she had magical abilities. Not a lot of magic, just enough, to wipe this letter from between her fingers and that vile woman with it.

Davina had disappeared into the supplies closet as quickly as she could. Imogen never understood why she felt so at home inside that cupboard let alone how she managed to stay in there for hours at a time. She supposed that Davina could have been a turtle in her past life, retreating during any moment of danger. Resisting the urge to stand beside her within its wooden oak walls Imogen sighed and leant back in her chair. "Uh I just don't get it!" The door creaked open slightly. "Why would she want to come back?"

"You don't think she wants revenge for what happened last time do you?" came a muffled voice from beyond the door.

"She very well might," Imogen replied making Miss Bat choke a sob "Miss Bat will you come out of there?"

"No!" She yelled. "I'd rather stay in here for the next year than have to face that woman again. Do you know how humiliating it was when she last visited? That woman is vile and cruel."

"Now I know where Constance gets it from," Miss Drill sighed. "I wonder what happened while she was being tutored."

"Tutored?" Miss Bat yelled before she flung the cupboard door open and stepped outside. "More like tortured!"

"Ladies we need to devise a plan!" Miss Cackle announced as she stepped into the room and took a seat at the table. "And what do you suggest we plan?" Imogen replied, finally looking up from the letter sitting on the table innocently. "The last time she visited we had everything organised and it was completely shut down!"

"I understand that but maybe Constance will be able to help us find everything we need to get through the inspection unscathed," Amelia secretly hoped before the door opened and Constance Hardbroom entered. She stood at the door, the other three ladies all turning to look at her even paler white face. "Have you devised the plan?" She asked. The teachers looked between themselves which signalled a 'no'. "We were waiting for you," Amelia explained.

"So you could give us some tips," Miss Bat smiled as she sat down delicately next to Imogen in front of the open window.

"I'm afraid that no amount of preparation will be able to fulfil Mistress Broomhead's standards."

"How high could they be?" Imogen asked before Constance took a seat at the table, folding her hands together as they sat on the table. "Let's just say that if one girl even slouches in her chair we will fail the investigation."

"What?" Miss Bat yelled. "But what about Chanting?"

"Chanting she hates, singing is a waste of time for Hecketty Broomhead, much less the lack of posture and flailing of arms. PE is good because it keeps the girls fit but if they don't play like pro-athletes then it annoys her."

"So what are we supposed to do then?" Amelia questioned. Constance looked to Miss Cackle her eyes never blinking. She saw it, the smallest glimmer. If she had blinked she would have missed it. Constance Hardbroom didn't know what to do. The all-knowing deputy headmistress didn't know what to do. Miss Bat looked between the two for a moment, wondering why they seemed to be having a staring contest before she spoke up. "When does it say she's coming?"

"Two days time," Amelia finally spoke as Constance broke her gaze, hiding the spark of uncertainty. "So what do we do?"

"Run!" Miss Bat offered as she started running into the closet only to find her arm taken a hold of by Imogen's strong grasp. "Sit down Miss Bat."

"Yes there is no need to panic," Amelia soothed but it did little to help the nervous Witch.

"No need to panic?" She questioned, her voice quaking with every word, "don't you remember what happened last time? She scared the music out of me and my students and Constance hardly got a word in." The room was quiet again; they knew that Davina was right. "I think there is a lot to worry about Miss Cackle." She spat before returning to her favourite place in the castle. With a sigh Imogen returned her hand to the table and her head to the current conversation.

"She plans on shutting down Cackle's Academy," Imogen spoke, not remembering her previous talk with the hardened witch earlier that morning in the forest. "It's the only purpose of her visit."

"She could have shut us down last time," Constance began as she stood and began pacing the room. "Hecketty Broomhead is not a failed witch. She had enough power to attack the school and remove our Guild Association Status. Sybil Hallows little spell only bought us time. I knew she would return. I just didn't think it would be this soon."

"But how do we prepare is the question," Miss Cackle offered.

"We don't," Imogen answered making Hardbroom stop her pacing and Davina to open the cupboard door. "If she is hell bent on shutting down Cackle's then what's the point of a plan of any sort?"

"We need to inform the girls," Miss Cackle replied. "Tomorrow morning organise a school assembly first thing. Meanwhile we need to work on some sort of action plan tonight. It doesn't matter how useless a plan is we have to have something," it seemed from the silence within the room that they were all in agreement. "We cannot let her shut down Cackle's Academy without a fight."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: I decided that, like Castle Overblow is the setting for Cackle's Academy, Broomhead Manor would be the location for Witch Training College. Chapter 3 will be up in a week or so (if everything goes to plan).<strong>


	3. 24 Hours

**AN: Thanks to everyone who has read/reviewed this story so far. All your feedback means the world to me :) I apologise in advance if there are any errors throughout, I'm a little under the weather at the moment. Don't forget to tell me what you think!**

**Chapter 3 – 24 Hours**

Mildred Hubble was not a morning person. In fact, back home she was sure she had taken after her father who on the weekends enjoyed nothing more than lying down for the afternoon and awakening only for meal times. Her mother put it down to how many hours he spent at work but Mildred knew it had to be genetic.

There was no other reason why her peers opened their eyes and without a single yawn went through the entire day full of energy while it took her several hours to become fully alert and, even then, her energy levels drained quickly. For a moment she wondered if there was some kind of potion she could make that would help but, then again, she didn't want to risk ruining the potion or worse, having to report to Miss Hardbroom had she done it incorrectly.

No, Mildred was definitely not a morning person and when the knock on the door sounded through her ears she wanted nothing more than to roll over and cover them to pretend she didn't hear it. Another knock sounded and, resisting the urge to ignore that one too, she willed her eyes to open to the light invading her bedroom through her shutters. Why did the teachers have to call an assembly so early in the morning?

"Millie come on we need to get to the great hall." Maud called from the other side of the door. "You don't want to be late." Millie groaned at just how right Maud was. The girl was logical and never liked breaking the rules. She was the polar opposite to Enid who enjoyed breaking the rules whenever the situation called for it. Millie, well, she was in the middle. She tried to follow the rules like Maud but ended up breaking some of them like Enid. Though she knew deep down inside that if she didn't roll out of bed, get dressed and into the Assembly Hall in the next ten minutes she would have more than just Maud to worry about.

"Okay just let me get ready," she finally called before flinging off her covers, opening her window, getting dressed in her uniform and meeting Maud and Enid in the main corridor outside. "What do you think the assembly is about?" Maud wondered. "They never call an Assembly this early."

"All I know is it better be good," Enid grumbled as she crossed her arms.

"Maybe it's to do with Miss Drill from yesterday," Mildred offered making the others wonder the same thing. Finally entering the hall they each took their seat. "Well if it isn't Hubble Bubble and her motley crew," Ethel smirked making the effort to turn in her chair to glare at them.

"Shut up Ethel Hallow," Maud retaliated.

"Yeah isn't it a little too early to be a complete grouch? Oh wait! It's you we're talking about of course it isn't." Enid joked making Ethel turn around in a huff and Millie and Maud laugh. Drusilla was still giving them the evil eye but had nothing to say, Enid would have used it as ammunition anyway. It was the way her father had taught her when she was bullied as a kid, 'take what someone gives you, spin it, and throw it back twice as hard.'

"What are you waiting for freckles, your face to change? Turn around." Enid ordered making the red headed girl turn to face the front with her friend the Grinch and Millie punch her playfully in the arm with a silent thank you.

Meanwhile in the staffroom Miss Drill tapped her pen on the table in a steady beat while Miss Cackle adjusted her glasses for the hundredth time. It had been hours of racking their brains for anything that might help...but they had come up dry. Each white piece of paper on the table was blank, all except for Miss Bat's small pile of scrunched drawings or of chanting lyrics that had absolutely no relation to the task at hand.

Miss Hardbroom sat, perfectly straight in her chair, surveying their work area when another knock on the desk from Drill's pen finally made her snap. "Will you stop that consistent tapping Miss Drill!" She yelled standing to her feet. "I told you Miss Cackle, it doesn't matter how many hours we spend here thinking about this. There is no possible way of passing the examination to her standards."

"Then tell us what we have to do!" Drill yelled standing to her own feet. "You know what she's like; tell us so we can get something on these stupid pieces of paper."

"I can't," Constance admitted making Miss Bat look up from her work and Amelia drop her glasses to the table. It was then that she noticed the clock on the wall; they were late for their own assembly. "Good heavens we're late!" Amelia announced as Miss Bat feet stood to attention.

"We can't go out there without a plan," Imogen interjected before she looked to Constance's dark eyes. "What do we have to do Constance? Tell us what we have to do to pass the inspection and we'll do it."

"It won't work!" Hardbroom snapped. "Nothing that we do will be adequate enough."

"We can always try though," Miss Bat offered with a nervous smile. "My mother was a very wise woman," she began to reminisce, making Hardbroom roll her eyes at the prospect of listening to another of her stories. "She always told me that it is better to try and fail than to never try at all." Amelia and Imogen's eyebrows rose in surprise, either Davina's mother was actually wise or their minds had dreamt the entire exchange. Though, as they turned to Constance they saw nothing in return. "Sometimes Davina," she took a breath. "Trying and failing is the same thing," and with that she crossed her arms and disappeared.

The students sitting patiently inside the Great Hall were becoming restless. The teachers told them to be in the hall first thing in the morning and they were, so was it one rule for the students and one for the teachers? Sitting in the very last row were Fennella Feverfew and Griselda Blackwood, the two most recognisable faces in Cackle's Academy. Senior witches who both had their specialties. Griselda Blackwood was renounced for her abilities in casting spells while Fennella Feverfew fancied herself more a potion master, even though she accidentally blew a hole in the potion laboratory ceiling when she added too many dragon flakes to her cauldron one term.

Both girls had their uses and both were best friends. They were pivotal representatives for the academy. They helped girls who needed guidance and to vent about their teachers. They helped the teachers with duties that usually students were not allowed to help with. They were a tag team of two powerful young witches who had only two ways to go when they left school. Remain together or drift apart. Mildred and her friends were sure that these two would never separate but, like Miss Hardbroom didn't think Hecketty Broomhead would ever track her down to Cackle's Academy, nothing was set in stone. Friendship is like a sandcastle. It's built from the sand year after year but, all it takes is one strong wave, and everything you built can come crashing down, leaving you with nothing but more sand to start over.

Fennella twisted in her seat to try and find a comfortable position. "I wonder what's taking them so long." Griz simply shrugged her shoulders. "I have no idea," she sighed. "But if it means getting out of HB's potion class for an extra few minutes I don't really care."

The doors at the back of the assembly opened as their four mentors entered in one long and determined line, Cackle leading the procession with Hardbroom, Bat and Drill. Together they took their positions and waited for a silence that came rather quickly.

Miss Cackle stepped forwards and looked to the somewhat confused faces of her students. They wanted to know why they were called here at this hour of the morning and she was almost too scared to tell them. "Girls," she began, "the school received a letter yesterday announcing that we are to have another school inspection by Mistress Hecketty Broomhead." Gasps and whispered conversations began to sound in the hall as Mildred's jaw nearly hit the floor. Hecketty Broomhead? Coming back to Cackles?

"Silence!" Hardbroom called, managing to silence the hushed whispers and draw Mildred attention back to the present. Miss Cackle continued. "As you are aware the last time we were visited the school failed the examination but thanks to a little help from Sybil Hallow we managed to save the day." Sybil smiled slightly although it faded at the prospect of possibly having to do something just as brave again. "This time however will not be as easy. We believe that because of what happened last time she will be working a lot harder to shut us down." Miss Cackle paused for a moment. "Because of this, Miss Hardbroom will be working with all of us to get the school up to Mistress Broomhead's standards. You are to follow any and all orders that she gives you is that understood?"

"Yes Miss Cackle," the girls chorused, each knowing they had no real choice in the matter. As Amelia stepped backwards Constance took her stand. "Mistress Broomhead's standards are high and if they are not met then only trouble will follow. I only ask of you two things over the next two days. The first is to stay out of trouble and the second is to follow every order I give you without question." Mildred could swear she heard a slight quiver in her voice; HB had never had that before. "If I tell you to fix something you fix it. If I tell you to clean you clean. If I tell you that this school will no longer exist without your cooperation then you will cooperate, is that clear?"

"Yes Miss Hardbroom."

"You will be advised by a member of staff of your duties. Classes are cancelled for the duration of the day. We need to devote the next twenty-four hours to getting the school organised. Remain here until you are told otherwise." The girls all nodded before the teachers disappeared down the centre aisle and out of sight. Not one of the girls spoke for a moment, as if each of them was trying to contemplate what they just heard.

"I assume that you have a plan then Constance," Amelia began as she pulled the door closed behind her. "I do," she replied as Imogen and Miss Bat took a seat.

"Well go on," Imogen ushered. "What do we have to do?"

"Amelia." Constance turned to Amelia who looked to her with longing eyes. She was worried that the plan she had devised would be enough to stop any impending disaster but, she had to admit that for once in her life Davina was right, Hecketty Broomhead wasn't going to disappear anytime soon and she had never been one to back away from a fight.

"Yes."

"You need to get the files in working order. They need to be neat and tidy, above board in their sorting, destroy any others that could bring the school down." Amelia nodded her head in agreement. "Miss Drill you need to change your attire into something more formal."

"But I'm a PE teacher," Imogen interrupted.

"It doesn't matter what type of teacher you are, to Hecketty Broomhead we are all the same. I will remove all the bats from the buildings again. We need every window sill and floor washed and scrubbed until it is perfect." She turned to the defenceless Davina, admiring the single flower in its pot on the table. With a flick of her fingers the flower disappeared bringing the older witch back to reality with a sigh. "Miss Bat I need you to remove any flowers that do not relate to potion making. They must be destroyed or hidden before she arrives. Tomorrow's lessons will go as planned but before the school starts I will call another assembly. We need to make sure everything is perfect including our girls."

"What are you going to do?" Amelia questioned.

"A few spells before the day begins. You're PE class will be up to Mistress Broomhead's standards. Miss Bat your chanting is cancelled for the day."

"What!" She hollered, standing to her feet. "But what will I teach?"

"Music," Mrs Hardbroom replied before she used her magic to create every instrument the students would need and sent them to her chanting room. "The instruments are already in your room as we speak."

"But the girls don't know how to play; Sybil is the only one who knows how to play the clarinet but everyone else..."

"Exactly why the morning assembly," Miss Hardbroom interrupted. The other teachers looked to her with sceptical eyes. "You asked me to tell you what needs to be done in order to pass the inspection," Constance reminded, making Imogen's gaze flicker slightly downward. "This is it. I need you to trust me and to do what I've asked." They all turned their gaze to meet hers before Amelia nodded her head, Imogen and Davina doing the same.

"What about us?" Miss Cackle questioned. "Anything we should be aware of."

"I will also use the spell on you; it will help your appearances to meet her standards. Not a hair must be out of place, your posture must be perfect at all times. Your teaching must never have a mistake and under no circumstances, and I mean no," she stressed, "circumstances are you to ever touch Mistress Broomhead. Not a handshake or a friendly gesture." They nodded seriously, Miss Drill trying to remember everything while Miss Bat started to shake from nerves. "We should address the girls again," Miss Cackle interjected the others sighing for a moment before following Constance out of the door. Today was going to be a very busy day indeed.

After the initial shock dispersed from the Great Hall the comments began, all of them agreeing that Broomhead had to go and she should never have returned. "Broomhead! Not that old Bat," Enid sniffed. "She did too much damage when she first came here."

"Let alone what she's planning on doing this time," Maud added with a sigh, she remembered only too well what Hecketty's first visit brought. "Did anyone else hear HB's voice shake?" Jadu pipped up from behind the group as Ruby Cherrytree joined the conversation. "Yeah," Maud sighed. "It was weird though wasn't it? Did you hear it Millie?" Their gaze turned to a Mildred Hubble who wasn't mentally in the room. Her fingertips mindlessly fiddled with the end of her pigtails as she stared at nothing in particular. "Earth to Mildred," Enid nudged snapping her from the daze. "Millie!"

"Oh...yeah," she finally recovered.

"Did you hear HB's voice shake?" Ruby reiterated making Mildred nod her head in reply.

"Yeah I heard it." Her answer was short making Maud look to her friend through her round glasses.

"Are you alright Mildred?"

"Yeah I'm fine," she recovered. "It's just..." she didn't know how to say it. How was she supposed to say 'I'm scared' without sounding childish and pathetic? "I'm a little worried. Broomhead wanted to find me, remember? She probably wants to throw me out."

"But HB stopped her," Enid responded first. "She was the one who hid you so the school could pass the inspection."

"But what would she do if she came back? What if HB can't stop her from throwing me out this time?"

"It's not going to happen, Millie," Maud soothed, placing a hand on her friends upper arm. "It's like Hardbroom said, we just have to do what she says and the school will be fine."

"She never said it would be 'fine'" Millie replied before taking a seat.

"Will you stop whining," Ethel groaned from in front of them, turning to face the group with her red headed entourage in tow. "If Broomhead wants to throw you out than I say let her."

"Why don't you slither back under the rock you came from and give Millie a break?" Enid questioned, crossing her arms and standing in front of Mildred like an insult proof shield. "There's no need to be so harsh."

"Yeah," Drucilla backed, the first word she had said all morning.

"I am entitled to my opinion after all."

"Then why don't you keep that opinion to yourself?" Fennella motioned, standing firm with Griselda by her side, making Ethel feel small. She stood to her feet and motioned for Drusilla to follow her away to the other side of the hall. "That girl never knows when to shut up," Griselda sighed as she knelt in front of Millie, making her look her in the eye. "Everything will be fine; HB knows what she's doing."

Constance Hardbroom didn't know what she was doing. She stood on the stage in front of the girls, all silencing and returning to their seats and had always felt comfortable doing so. But today it wasn't just the school that was on the line... it was her. This castle was her home; her staff and students a family. She didn't have anywhere else to go if Cackle's Academy was shut down and couldn't imagine living in an apartment alone while circling adds in the local paper to find work. No, not after all the hours of hard work she had invested within these walls. It was then, standing in front of those girls, looking them in the eye, that she realised she did know what she was doing. She was saving them from Hecketty Broomhead.

"Girls Mistress Broomhead will be here tomorrow. The first years will be with Miss Bat focusing on the exterior of the school, her chanting rooms and the corridors. Second years will be with me on the potion laboratories and other classrooms removing any clutter. Third year students Fennella Feverfew and Griselda Blackwood, you will be accompanying Miss Cackle in her office to sort the school documents. Miss Drill will be coordinating the sports cupboards as well as the outdoor sporting areas. Fourth years and above will be split with the first years to help Miss Drill. When you return to your rooms at night you are to make sure everything is folded perfectly and neatly."

"Tomorrow morning," Constance continued. "There will be another assembly even earlier than this morning's for a few adjustments." No girl responded, they were all remembering which teacher they were spending the rest of the day with, Enid secretly cringing at having to work with Hardbroom all day when she really wanted to be with the carefree Miss Bat.

"Any student who attempts to sabotage tomorrow by doing something reckless or breaking any of the school rules will find themselves out of Cackles academy for life before they can blink. Understood?"

"Yes Miss Hardbroom."

"Move out everyone, we have less than twenty-four hours to get everything ready!"

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><p>AN: So what do you think? Will the school be ready in time? Is Constances plan enough to pass the inspection this time round?<p> 


	4. Clean, Sort, Perfect

**AN: Firstly, I'd like to apologise for the lateness of this update. You know what it's like when life crushes your creative writing ability sometimes :) Anyway thank you all for reading and reviewing this story. Here is chapter 4.**

**Chapter 4 – Clean, Sort, Perfect**

Castle Overblow was many things; the home to students and staff, the previous residence for kings and wizards, the battleground for opposing armies. It was the protection against war, the overtaking of many an enemy and its inhabitants all had a special part to play within its walls. Today, that job just so happened to be cleaning said walls.

The sight was something to behold. Students, sitting on their broomsticks, used mops, brushes and buckets to wash the sandstone exterior of the castles walls while others swept leaves from its cobble stone passages, washed window sills, hid flowers, arranged and wiped desks and chairs, blackboards and cauldrons. The task was not something small and many students wondered if all of this elbow grease was really necessary. But, then again, they didn't want to question Hardbroom's methods either. Not only had she specifically asked for their un-wavering faith for the next two days but they also didn't want their Deputy Headmistress to use the string that had been winding her so tightly as a rope for their own execution.

Wiping down the potion lab tables Ethel and Drusilla's arms grew heavy while Mildred, Maud and Enid were set on the windows. Miss Hardbroom herself was set at the potion supplies shelves', checking every ingredient was perfectly spaced she used a flick of her wrist to move all the cauldrons to her front desk. A mutter of words was heard before they all glowed a bright blue before she returned them to their respective locations. Mildred took a moment to wipe the sweat from her brow. "What did that do Miss Hardbroom?" She asked Mildred before returning her cloth to the bucket on the ground and picked up the broom from the back corner to begin sweeping.

"It's an anti-mistake spell. It will stop any careless students from putting too much ingredient into the cauldron," she explained simply. "We can't afford any mistakes tomorrow from anyone." Beginning to sweep the floor Mildred worked on each and every corner while Miss Bat began sorting through her flowers; asking the girls to find a location inside the school grounds where her beloved plants could be hidden.

Miss Cackle found another three files that needed instant removal before she started to work her magic on the other documents to make them as tidy as possible while Mrs Drill started cleaning out her shed, making the shelves sparkle as some of the first and fourth year students helped to pump up the balls and set up the volleyball courts for tomorrows match. Sweeping out another mound of dust and into a dustpan Miss Drill placed the dirt into the bin full of other junk. She too wondered if all of this extra effort was necessary but as she looked to see Constance walking through the courtyard to inspect everyone's handiwork she caught a glimpse of the potion teachers eyes and there, as if she thought it was all a part of her imagination, she thought she saw the welling of a tear.

Constance Hardbroom was never scared, or frightened, or pushed around. She was the pillar of strength that they all leant on in times of crisis; the guiding light that brought them solace and made them feel safe; the most powerful witch any of the girls had ever come across. If Constance Hardbroom was to fall, if her light was to dim and her magic follow suit, she wasn't sure what any of them would do. Cackle's Academy for Witches would never be the same. Even though she hated to admit it, having her around made her feel safe. But, when she saw that one flicker of fear that quickly disappeared as soon as it came, she knew, tomorrow would be no ordinary day.

Six hours later and the school was still not up to scratch, though, as the girls walked grudgingly into the cafeteria that evening, their teachers knew they could not possibly work anymore without falling asleep in class the following morning; something that would definitely go against them inside the inspection. Constance had warned them about slouching in their seats but falling asleep in one had to be a serious deduction.

Meanwhile, Miss Hardbroom's inspections of the grounds continued. She opened the door to Miss Bat's room and was surprised to see how it had been transformed into a thriving music room. Sheets of music were neatly pilled on music stands, the piano was free of dust, the instruments sparkled and the walls were no longer covered in multicoloured scarves or paintings. Instead of the students previous lyric inventions Constance found nothing but traditional ballads. It was an improvement to say the least. 'Sad it won't stay like this for long,' she thought quietly before closing the door behind her and continuing to check the remaining classrooms.

Mildred held her plate forwards and received a mix salad on it before she walked to the others who were all using their forks to push their dinner items around the plates. "Come on why don't we cheer up a little?"

"Right because today was so much fun," Enid scoffed sarcastically, stabbing a lettuce leaf with her fork. "I never want to see another cloth and bucket ever again."

"Neither do I," Ruby added, her left elbow on the table holding her head in the upright position. "I just want to go to sleep for a week."

"A week?" Jadu mocked, "More like a year."

"It wasn't that bad," Mildred responded making them all raise eyebrows in amazement. "Don't look at me like that; I'm sure that the teachers wouldn't have made us do it unless it was for a good reason."

"Right," Enid sighed, returning to her food. "Remind me to call you next time I need something cleaned."

"I'm just saying that its better than doing class work," Millie added to her prove her point.

"Oh make way for the famous cleaner Mildred Hubble," Drusilla smirked as she turned to face the group. "The only reason you're so good at cleaning is because you always have to clean up after your mistakes."

"Cut it out Drusilla," Maud responded, speaking up for the first time since they entered the hall. "Aren't you too tired to argue?"

"I'm just telling the truth," she justified before her partner in crime, Ethel Hallow decided to enter the conversation. "Besides, if Mildred starts proclaiming about how much fun she had while she was cleaning the teachers might get too many ideas. My father, the chair of the board of governors, expects me to get an education in witchcraft, not menial tasks like cleaning. So shut up about how it's better than schoolwork because I never want to do that again."

"And you think we do?" Enid remarked. "This whole day was pure torture."

"A necessary torture," Miss Hardbroom's voice interrupted before she appeared behind the girls making Enid look away for a moment. "And for the record, Enid Nightshade, your work hasn't gone without reward," Miss Hardbroom looked to Mrs Tapioca who smiled and nodded her head with a smile. Using her casting fingers Miss Hardbroom created a magical chocolate fountain, almost as tall as the hall itself. Magic food wouldn't fully settle their appetite and she usually was against this sort of thing. However, she thought that giving the girls something sweet tonight may make them obey her just that little more tomorrow; when something sour arrived on their doorstep.

"But if you dare to make a mess you will be cleaning the dining hall from top to bottom until the assembly tomorrow morning. Understood?" The girls were too excited to throw away their chance at some chocolate fondue so with a united 'yes Miss Hardbroom' they began to enjoy the treat. "Still think it was a bad day?" Mildred smiled, dipping a marshmallow into the thick molten cocoa.

After dinner and desert were finished the teachers returned to the staff room for a moment of piece. Imogen fell backwards into a chair while Miss Bat began sipping on some herbal tea. Miss Cackle took hers and began to fill it using the hot water urn as Constance appeared near the door, her arms in their usual crossed position.

"I don't think I've ever worked so hard before in my life," Imogen groaned, lifting an aching arm to cover her eyes. "I'll admit it was a good work out though."

"Yes well your room wasn't completely transformed," Miss Bat snapped, making her cup and saucer clink together. "My lovely and inspiring room of chants became the place for traditional and lifeless musical ballads, no expression what so ever!"

"It is only temporary Miss Bat," Constance reminded, though she secretly wished it wasn't. "The Paper work has been done?" she questioned as Miss Cackle showed her the pile of files, neatly stacked in the corner of the now spotless room. "Everything is in order then. I suggest that we all get a good night's rest. Tomorrow will be a trying day for us all."

"Of course, see you all in the assembly hall tomorrow," Miss Cackle announced before she disappeared out the staff room door and travelled to her chambers.

"I'll be off too," Imogen replied. "I need to find something to wear for tomorrow." With a smile she exited the room before Constance decided to dismiss herself.

Returning to her room Miss Hardbroom lay her head onto her pillow and looked to the ceiling for a moment. She considered taking wide awake potion to keep herself alert for tomorrow but secretly knew that what she needed was a good night's sleep. Her eye lids were heavy and the combination of a day full of worry and the flashback before had her body aching for relief, a relief that she hoped would come through sleep. Though, as Constance closed her eyes that evening, she realised sleep would bring anything but.

"Constance Hardbroom, get up now!" Her eyes widened in terror as she sat up and cradled the covers at her chest with her hands. Standing at the bottom of her bed was a figure, shrouded in darkness and mystery though Constance knew all too well who it would be. The straight posture, the broad shoulders, Constance could recognise it anywhere. "Mistress Broomhead," she stumbled before she noticed that it was raining outside her window. "Don't look so surprised Constance, you know that tonight is a full moon and that means we are to gather ingredients for further lessons." She nodded, agreeing with the woman who still refused to move from the end of her bed. A flash of lightning lit up her face and the eyes that would haunt her dreams forever were the first thing that burned into her mind. "Well what are you waiting for?"

"But…the weather," Broomhead's hand suddenly latched onto her covers and ripped the sheets from her body making Constance feel the chill in the air that she suspected was not caused by weather alone. "You have exactly two minutes before I return," She announced before disappearing into thin air. As quickly as her body would allow Constance began the painstaking task of getting her appearance to the Mistress' standards. Any second over the two minutes she was allocated would be met with a punishment that she knew not only her mind but also her body could not withstand. It would all end in tears.

Checking her uniform and fixing her hair back into her trademark bun she tied her shoelaces and headed for the door only to end up barging straight into eh infamous tutors back. Broomhead turned as Constance's head sunk to the floor. "Look at me girl," she demanded making young Hardbroom return her gaze. "Clumsiness will not be tolerated. Is that understood?" Constance nodded her head even though she bit her teeth to hold back a retort. She reminded herself of what the consequences of verbally attacking her tutor would be, making the hairs on the back of her neck stand to attention at the very thought. With a silent nod she said, "Yes Mistress Broomhead." before being pushed further down the corridor by her teachers' strong hand. "Go and collect your Broom, you have twenty seconds," and crossing her arms she disappeared once more.

Constance ran down the corridors and stairs, past locked door after locked door, until she arrived at the indoor broom cupboard and collected the item she desperately desired.

"Thirteen...fourteen...fifteen," Hecketty counted in her head, looking to a small pocket watch she kept connected by chain to her jacket. "Eighteen...nineteen..." Constance suddenly appeared by her side, breathing heavily as she entered the dark courtyard, the rain icy cold against her skin. "I'm ready Mistress Broomhead," she announced breathlessly.

"Really? So you call the absence of a witch's hat 'ready'?" She asked making Constance reach to her head and sigh in disappointment when all she felt was her tightly bound bun. Constance started to run back to the door when her Mistress appeared in front of her. "Where are you going?"

"To get my hat?"

"Wrong!" Headmistress Broomhead barked. "It's time for another lesson; retrieving items to your disposal." She strode further into the rain making Constance follow behind her. "Think of your hat, close your eyes and concentrate, see it on your head and it will be there." Constance closed her eyes and began to concentrate, after another minute nothing happened. "Hurry up girl we don't have all night!" Closing her eyes again she focused on the hat and it finally appeared, only, instead of it being her witches' hat, it was a beret that her mother had given her as a child. Taking it from the girl's head Mistress Broomhead threw it to the ground and shot a used magic to set it alight before her pupils eyes. "But that – "she ran, trying to save the one worldly possession she held above all others. But, Hecketty's reflex hold on her arms prevented her from achieving her goal.

"Was not the hat we wanted," Broomhead replied coldly into her ear. "Your mother is dead now. It doesn't matter how many trinkets and items you keep, none of them will bring her back so quit the collecting and stop wasting time and space!" Constance's eyes filled with tears as she looked to the hats remains on the coble stone ground, the magic fire being unaffected by the newly formed downpour that made her uniform soaked and she realise her shoes had a hole in them somewhere.

"You show such promise girl but you need to remove these emotional connections to things like hats. Items are items, they are nothing more. A piece of furniture does not become something special because someone sat in it, nor does a book gain more importance because of who read it's pages." She listened to the sniffling coming from between her hands before guiding the student away. "Get on your broomstick and stop your crying! Witches don't cry."

"Miss Hardbroom!" Called a voice making Constance open her eyes and feel the dry tears against her skin. "Miss Hardbroom the assembly is about to begin," Mrs Drill explained before she heard the sound of muffled running, boots against the hard wooden floor, water being washed down the basin and the click of the door as it opened. "Well then Miss Drill what are we waiting for?" She asked, Imogen looking to the red rims of her eyes and twisting her head for a moment. "Can I ask you if you're alright?" Imogen wondered; concern in her voice for the hardened Potion Mistress, this would not be the easiest of days for her and, like Miss Cackle, Imogen knew the worst was yet to come.

"No you may not!" she yelled before she noticed that Imogen had taken her advice and changed her clothes. She wore black from head to toe, resembling the other teachers well. "Well you're a PE teacher so start moving," she began before she started her power walk down the corridors Imogen jogging to keep up with her pace. "Miss Hardbroom, are you sure - ?"

"I'm fine Miss Drill!"

* * *

><p>AN: Slight reference to the Great Outdoors episode when HB conjured her hat to appear on her head and a little about the back-story I created for Constance before she was taken under Broomheads wing so to speak. So what did you think? Is Constance as fine as she is making herself out to be? Hecketty Broomhead's arrival is next :) Thanks for reading.<p> 


	5. Feathers of Hope

**AN: Well here we are, the arrival of Hecketty Broomhead. I thank RestlessSeas for their beta-reading of this chapter. Enjoy.**

**Chapter 5 – Feathers of Hope**

The doors at the back of the hall swung open making the girls pivot their heads, retake their seats and cease their conversations. Miss Hardbroom walked through the centre of the assembly hall behind a nervous Miss Cackle while Imogen and Davina followed closely behind them, each releasing a deep breath as they stood before the tired and somewhat frightened students.

Mildred remembered all too well what the arrival of Hecketty Broomhead had done last time and, out of all the students sitting around her, she felt the most nervous. If Cackle's Academy was shut down she didn't know where to go. Her parents couldn't afford to send her to a school like Pentangles and her hopes of going to College would disappear too.

Miss Cackle began explaining why the girls were there, even though they already knew about the impending doom. It was only when Constance stood to the front that Mildred lifted her head to look the older witch in the eye. "Today nothing and I mean absolutely nothing must go wrong," she emphasised, looking to Mildred specifically for a moment without moving her head. "Your behaviour must be excellent, your abilities perfect, your skills mastered. The spell I am about to cast on all of you will make you perfect athletes, potion makers, musicians and spell casters. Your uniforms will be neat, your hair and posture immaculate," She explained before placing her spell casting fingers against the temples of her head, silently praying that this would be enough. "Close your eyes girls," she instructed making each of them do so.

Ten seconds of concentration was all it took before Miss Hardbroom extended her arms and white magic erupted from her finger tips. All of the students in the room and the teachers standing at her sides felt the sudden connection to their bodies and minds. Mildred had never felt the sensation that overwhelmed her body. It was neither "hot" or "cold", "burning" or "soothing" but a kind of magical tingle that spread from the top of her head to the tip of her toes. Once Constance stopped the flow of magic she stumbled slightly but managed to regain her composure before anyone else in the hall opened their eyes.

Mildred opened her right eye and then her left. She didn't feel any different. "Hey check out Miss Cackle," Jadu whispered from behind her making Millie look to see just how much the teachers appearance had changed. Miss Cackle's usually wild and frizzy hair had been tamed straight, Miss Bat's curls were softer and clinging closely to her scalp while Miss Drills usually short spiky hair had slickened itself back.

Curious at what change had been made to her own hair, Mildred tried to move a strand from one of her pigtails before it snapped back into position instantly. "Wow," she exhaled Maud and Enid watching in wonder.

"Classes will continue today as scheduled," Miss Cackle announced, drawing the girl's attention from their now ironed uniforms, tied shoelaces, clean boots and straightened ties. "Miss Drill and Miss Bat will now take their classes to their rooms while Miss Hardbroom's potion class will journey unaccompanied to their lesson until she returns. Remember, everything we are doing is for the good of the academy."

Standing at the front wooden doors of the academy, Miss Hardbroom tried to slow her breathing. "Are you alright Constance?" Amelia finally asked making the taller woman look down to her employer, she didn't have the energy or the time to try and tell her the truth. It had always been easier for her to cover things up and hold them deep inside the corners of her mind, never to be revisited again.

"I'm fine, Headmistress," she responded though Amelia knew it was a lie the moment it left her lips. There were some things that she would never know about her deputy and sadly she knew that pressing her for details too much would make her lose a friend. "Open it when I tell you," Constance began, breaking the silence. "She believes that if she has to knock on a door that means tardiness. Let her go straight to Miss Bat's room for the inspection first, don't try and say hello or any of the pleasantries." Miss Cackle nodded but the thought of what Constance had been through as a student under Mistress Broomhead's tutoring did slip past her mind for the fourth time that morning.

"Now Miss Cackle," Constance ordered. Miss Cackle opened the door to see Mistress Broomhead standing with her fist in the air, poised to knock on the wooden door. Constance's heart beat began to race in her chest; carefully she gritted her teeth together to hold her nerves in check and settle the nausea that threatened at her throat. "Miss Cackle," she greeted before seeing her former pupil. "Constance, still in this sore excuse for a school I see," she greeted, walking briskly into the hallway past the two teachers and raising her head to inspect for the cobwebs she had seen when she first entered visited. They were missing to her surprise. "Miss Bat's class is ready for your inspection, Mistress Broomhead," Miss Cackle explained, closing the door behind her as Constance remained still, noticing the slight cringe that passed her tutors eye.

"Yes Miss Bat," she almost spat. Constance cursed inwardly, knew she forgot something. She should have changed Davina's last name for the purpose of the inspection, not that it would help against the paper work though. "Allow me," Miss Cackle began reaching out to take Hecketty Broomhead's arm to lead her in the right direction when Miss Hardbroom zapped her away with magic. Amelia smiled when she realised her mistake and silently thanked her deputy for the reminder. "Allow you to what Miss Cackle?" Broomhead boomed turning to the older witch.

"To get out of your way," Amelia covered. "I will be in my office when you are ready to inspect our papers."

"Good," Broomhead replied before she began walking down the corridor like a small typhoon waiting to crash into Miss Bat's classroom door.

Standing in front of her music class Miss Bat was ready for the arrival although that didn't stop her foot tapping softly on the floor beneath her. The students were quiet, knowing all too well that Mistress Broomhead would be coming through the door any minute and, if what happened last time was anything to go by, it would not prove a pleasant experience.

Constance suddenly appeared next to her Piano making Davina look her in the eye. "She's on her way now." Davina nodded her head before she disappeared just as the door opened. Instead of seeing the coloured notes all over the windows, blackboard and anything else with a name she saw a solemn, perfectly postured Miss Bat playing a traditional tune on the piano while her students, also perfectly, played along on their instruments. Hecketty Broomhead, for once in her life, didn't disturb the lesson but waited until their piece had finished. Once it had Miss Bat took the opportunity to stand from her seat and walk to the front of the room.

"What did you think Mistress?" Miss Bat asked, hoping that her voice wasn't shaking as much as her feet were. "Not bad," she scoffed, "but I've heard better."

"Would you like us to play another piece?" Miss Bat asked making the teacher inhale suddenly, as if the question had offended her intelligence. She walked to the front of the room and sat at the desk, opening her file and taking a pen from her pocket. "I think it would be a better idea if I saw you teach the girls something since you encourage 'communication' at Cackles." She smirked slightly. Sybil instantly recognised those words from her last visit and hoped that Miss Bat would be able to handle herself better this time around.

"Of course," Miss Bat replied with a slight smile before she turned to everyone, the spell working full force to keep her standing upright even though all she wanted to do was curl up in a ball on the floor and cry. "Girls today's lesson is on Traditional Ballads and their importance in documenting the history of witches through the ages."

Imogen Drill stood nervously watching her students complete their warm-ups in preparation for Mistress Broomhead's arrival. She was used to being treated as the weakest link in the chain of command at Cackle's Academy. After all, what would a non-witch know about educating 'impressionable young witches'? She assumed that if it came down to the crunch and the school had to remove one of its teachers she would be the first to go. Although, the prospect of the entire academy and all of its staff and students falling into the black hole of the Witches Council was something she could not bear. She only hoped, with all her heart, that whatever spell Constance had cast would reap the benefits the school so desperately needed and remove Hecketty Broomhead from all of their lives forever.

"A little nervous are we Miss Drill?" Asked a voice next to her making Miss Drill clutch her chest in fright.

"Constance what is wrong with you?"

"Nothing with me Miss Drill," Hardbroom replied simply. "Mistress Broomhead is coming your way. Start the game," and with that she disappeared. Blowing her whistle the girls stopped their drills and turned to face her. "Okay girls split into two teams and we'll start the game."

A serve from Griselda caused Fennella on the other team to bend her knees so far to the ground that they actually landed to dig the ball in the air. A set from the front team member and a loud spike from another ended the point as Miss Drill changed the score on the card in her hands. It was then that she saw Mistress Broomhead arriving; she walked with haste to her destination, clipboard in hand while Imogen recorded another point for Griselda's team.

Checking that her own posture was in its proper upright position the queen of deceit and pain arrived at her side and turned to watch the students match. "Imogen Drill," she read from her clipboard, pretending that she had not already seen the spying non-witch two days before inside the forest. "You're the non-witch Physical Education Teacher?"

"Yes I am," Imogen answered simply as she marked another point on her scorecard.

Mistress Broomhead watched in silence as the girls sprinted from one end of the court to another. They jumped higher, moved faster, played better than anyone she had seen previously which made her a little suspicious to say the least. "Is this all you do with your girls?" she questioned. "Let them play a game by themselves."

"I referee the game," Imogen answered. "They have been working on activities and theory all week, this game is the result of their hard work." Broomhead watched as another point was scored but her mind was not on the girls actions at all. This lesson seemed pointless and there was nothing to really inspect. The girls played well, a little too well for her liking, but because of the absence of the girls using magical abilities she found herself eager to move onto her next victim.

Imogen sounded her whistle and the girls stopped the game immediately, walking toward their teacher with smiles on their faces. "Morning Mistress Broomhead," they acknowledged with more enthusiasm then they usually embodied at this time of the day. With a slight twitch of the lip she said, "Girls," before turning her attention to the non-witch beside her. "I'm afraid time is of the essence Miss Drill," she explained, removing the pocket watch from her jacket and inspecting the time. "I must be off."

Imogen made no attempt to stop the witch as she powered herself past the group and toward Constance's Potion Laboratory. Oh how Imogen prayed that the spell she had cast would be enough to save them.

Constance Hardbroom had stood at the front of her classroom numerous times. She had set test papers, forced students to learn potions off by heart, marked assignments and potion exams, written lesson plans, experimented with creating new brews and made her famous Wide Awake Potion in the cauldron on her front table. But if she felt so comfortable here then why were her hands shaking so much as she lay black feather after black feather in an arrangement on her desk?

The door to her room opened as her old tutor stepped inside the classroom making Constance bite her back teeth again to stem off the headache appearing behind her eyes. The hairs on the back of her neck stood to attention as another wave of nausea hit her stomach, though, her poise and posture never faltered. A witch should show no fear.

Constance nodded her head to acknowledge Mistress Broomhead's entrance before she continued the lesson as normal, all of the girls too scared to even turn and look to the formidable woman behind them. Mildred most of all.

"Now it's time to test your potions," she began, keeping her fears and vocal quiver under control. "I have set an arrangement of feathers on the front desk. You must put a small amount of the potion on your index finger then point and change their colour from Black to White. Enid you first," Enid painted her fingertip and gave a gentle swish. The feather changed colour, but turned grey instead of white. Constance saw her tutors quill scramble words onto her notebook, no doubt about a student failing to complete a task the first time.

Instead of immediately asking another student to try their potion instead Constance watched as Hecketty Broomheads eye brow furrowed and her eyes peered into what felt like the very depth of her soul. Constance watched as Enid slowly began slipping back into her chair. "Try again," she tempted fate making Broomhead almost drop her clipboard in disgust.

"No!" She yelled from the back before pointing her finger at one of the students in the very front row. "You girl!" she barked. "Change its colour!" Ethel happily stood to her feet and, after painting some of her potion over her fingertips, pointed her finger making the feather turn an almost angel white colour. "So Constance," she began, addressing her with the tone of voice that brought back years of torturous memories for the potion mistress. "Why can't all of your girls do that the first time, like?"

"Ethel," Ethel beamed with her usual smirk.

"Like Ethel. Didn't I teach you that students must get things right the first time?"

"That you did Mistress," Hardbroom acknowledged, folding her arms. "But not all students learn the same way."

"Yes they do!" Hecketty continued, stepping forwards and standing beside Ethel. "What kind of teacher do you think you are if your students cannot complete a task the first time? How can you call yourself a potion teacher if your students get things so miserably wrong?" Enid slid back into her seat, blinking away a tear as soon as it appeared to stop anyone from seeing but Constance knew that look all too well. The look of fear and failure in that one girl's eye reminded her of herself.

Her gaze turned to an impatient Broomhead. "Well... what do you have to say for yourself?" there was no reply which made Hecketty smirk. It wasn't that Constance had nothing to say, if she had the opportunity, and the schools Guild Association Status was not in jeopardy she would have told the miserably old witch her truest thoughts. The thoughts and retorts she held so deeply inside when she was a child, she would have finally given voice to them all.

"Maybe I should have taken in Ethel Hallow as my apprentice instead of someone who can't give me results." Miss Hardbroom simply took the brush from her own potion and painted all of her fingertips making Broomhead take a step backwards. "What do you think you are doing?"

"Giving you results," she spoke before finishing her last finger and widening her hands to allow all of the feathers on the table to float above the desk, glowing a luminous white that made Ethel's feather appear dull and useless. "We will see," Broomhead snapped before she walked out of the room and slammed the door closed behind her.

Miss Hardbroom took a seat behind her desk as the feathers returned to their original colour and landed gracefully to the top of the table. "Are you alright Miss?" Asked Mildred. Constance nodded her head and offered a sympathetic smile. "I'm fine Mildred. Ethel can you please check on Enid's potion to make sure she didn't forget anything." It was the only logical cause of the potion failing. Her non-mistake potion stopped anyone from putting too much of an ingredient in the cauldron but not for leaving something out completely. Ethel got up from her seat and walked over to help Enid while the others took their own turns to turn the feathers from black to white.

Constance observed her students in their tasks and watched as Mildred attempted to turn the feather white but ended up making it green while Ruby managed to make the feather change properly. It was too bad that the flick of a finger and a bit of potion couldn't turn the dark stain from her heart into something more pure. No amount of magic could remove the memories that she relived when she closed her eyes.

No pure white feather of hope could erase her past.

* * *

><p>AN: So a pretty tense moment between HB and Broomhead, right? Broomhead's final verdict about the school is next :) thanks for reading. I hope you liked it.<p> 


	6. Force of Habit

**AN: Sorry again for the delay in this latest chapter I've been studying for my final exams at uni next week (crosses fingers for luck) and should be able to update more frequently afterwards. This chapter is the longest thus far though I'm not entirely sure if it's at the standard I'm used to but I'll let you be the judge of that.**

**Thanks again for all the reviews and support and to Restless Seas for their beta-reading of this chapter :) Enjoy.**

**Chapter 6 – Force of Habit**

Miss Cackle sat quietly in her staffroom. She looked to the biscuits, sitting lonely on her table and the warm liquid slowly cooling inside her cup. Her fingers twitched as she brought the lip to her mouth, sipping the tea, before lowering it back to the saucer, causing the two items to chink against each other quietly. "There's nothing to worry about Amelia," she told the butterflies fluttering in the pit of her stomach. "Nothing to worry about."

"I believe there is Miss Cackle," Hecketty Broomhead interrupted, appearing in front of the headmistresses desk, causing the elder witch to, almost, have a heart attack. "Mistress Broomhead," she exhaled before taking in a deep breath. "You scared me."

"A Witch should never be scared!" She snapped. "Where is your documentation? I would like to see it." Miss Cackle got out of her seat before retrieving the files from the back corner of the room and arranging them on the table for her inspection.

Silently Amelia walked to the door and exited, softly pulling the wooden oak behind her until its familiar click echoed through her ears. Closing her eyes Amelia released a breath she hadn't remembered holding when a hand crawled onto her shoulder sending shivers through her spine. Only upon turning her head to see Davina looking apologetic with Miss Drill by her side did she realise there was no reason to react the way she did.

"I'm sorry, Amelia, I didn't mean to startle you," Davina sighed, cradling her hand in the other as she nervously bit her bottom lip. Amelia offered a small smile though Imogen saw no evidence of the kind gesture in her eyes. "Are you alright?" Miss Drill questioned.

Amelia looked between the two but didn't quite know what to say. Was she truly alright? The school was in danger of having is GAS removed, it certainly wasn't something to cheer about. She felt sick at the very thought of the letters she would have to write, the phone calls she would have to take, the bickering showered upon her and the academy by furious parents and, perhaps the saddest of all of these tasks, watching the girls fly home on their broomsticks and never return.

Miss Cackle was not alright. Cackle's Academy was her home. She lived and breathed every part of the castle and loved her job more than many others in her profession would. She saw potential in students and instilled confidence in those who felt alone. She was the signpost for the school and if any student had a problem it was Miss Cackle who fronted kindness. But now, as she looked back to the wooden door, knowing what could wait beyond, she realised that she was powerless.

Constance Hardbroom was a strong witch and Amelia's right hand woman. She disciplined students, worked hard, was meticulous in her following of the school rules, setting an example for the girls and keeping the good name of Cackle's alive. In a way, she supposed she and Constance were more similar than she initially realised.

Making her way to the courtyard to sit down Amelia decided to keep her worry to herself. "I'm fine but I'm afraid we have more pressing matters to attend to."

"What did Mistress Broomhead say?" Imogen asked softly, Davina holding her shaking hands still as she looked to the headmistress for a reply, secretly hoping for a good outcome that she doubted would ever come.

"She said that we have to be worried about something."

"But be worried about what?" Davina asked, her eyes darting like a fly against a window, not sure of where they should rest before she finally added "my class ran a lot smoother," with a slight bow of her head.

"Mine too," Imogen added. "Although..." Amelia looked to her PE Teachers eyes, waiting for the rest of her statement. "She didn't ask a lot of questions and left after only a few minutes to go and inspect..."

"Constance," Miss Cackle finished before the Potion Mistress appeared inside the courtyard herself; her arms crossed, posture straight, face stoic. "You called," she greeted calmly, like it was just any other day, though the nausea had started to flare up again at having to explain the situation inside the potion laboratory. A moment that she knew the girls would discuss for hours on end in trivial noise later that night when they should have been sleeping soundly in their beds.

"What happened?" Imogen finally asked, breaking the silence like a crow at dawn.

"Enid Nightshade didn't pass the colour changing potion," Hardbroom explained, hoping to avoid any information that could harm her reputation at Cackle's Academy. Never in her years of service had she been called a 'failure' by anyone but herself. Hecketty Broomhead repeated it frequently when she was growing up and it was only when she arrived at Cackle's Academy seeking shelter from a storm, and offering her services as payment, that she realised some of the negative comments were coming from within.

After years of having it drilled into her mind Constance had begun disciplining herself for her failures, aiming for perfection in everything she did, especially to set an example to her students. So opening up to the others about her little disagreement with Hecketty Broomhead was something she chose to keep to herself, not because they would have panicked but because reliving the past meant remembering and remembering meant pain.

"But I thought that your spell would make them perfect?" Imogen inquired with the ignorance that only a non-witch could possess about the limitations of spells and enchantments. Constance snapped back to reality. Exchanging magical terminology to a mortal was not easy so she decided to be brief.

"The spell I cast was a combination of two separate forces; an external one for the girl's appearance and an internal or intellectual one for their abilities. However, the balance of these two had to be carefully co-ordinated in order to make sure that the foster's effect would not engulf the school."

"I still don't get it," Davina sighed. "How did my music students play so well?"

"Intellectual magic is separated into three categories, logical aptitude, physical application and creative ability. While transferring I used a different intellectual magic for separate groups of students according to what classes would be inspected."

Amelia's eyebrows rose high. Magic was a sensitive and volatile force that many could not completely master. Though, for some unknown reason, Constance had the ability to cast four different spells in different directions all at the same time? What had her years at the Witch Training College truly taught her and was this spell of hers something she created the night before or something she had planned years in advance?

"What happened after Enid failed the task?" Miss Cackle questioned, bringing all of their minds, including her own, back to the original topic that warranted Broomhead's worry.

"Mistress Broomhead talked about witches always getting things right the first time and was upset when I asked her to repeat the exercise again."

"You asked her to try again?" Miss Cackle asked, even more confused at her deputy's change in character. "But I've never known you to give a second chance Constance."

"It is a rare occasion but I knew that if I didn't ask her to Mistress Broomhead would have taken it upon herself to discipline the girl for failing," Hardbroom explained before averting her gaze from her fellow colleagues and to the office door in an attempt to change the subject. She knew they would eventually realise that asking her to try again would bring the full force of Broomhead's taunts onto her instead and she wanted nothing more than to avoid discussing it any further. "I guess she is in there going through the records?"

"That she is," Amelia replied, though a little slower than normal. She could see Constance bite back on her teeth either trying to wish away a headache or to seize the conversation. It was the deputy headmistresses way. Her emotions were a mystery, her past dark and haunted and her body a wall of protection for the lost and trapped soul within.

Amelia couldn't help but oblige to her request, knowing full well that more happened inside that classroom then Constance was allowing them to know and she would probably never learn the full truth of. "I suggest that until she tells us what her verdict is, we all resume our class routines, but keep our perfect stature."

"Yes Miss Cackle," They all agreed before dispersing into their separate directions, each hoping that this day would end and all their troubles. Little did they know the real trouble was about to begin.

Mildred and Maud had never seen Enid eat her food in silence. It was lunch time, and as Mildred stepped over the pew and pulled herself into place she watched as Enid picked around at her soup, lifting the broth with her spoon and tipping it over, watching the clouded water fall back with a splash. "So," Mildred started. "What kind of soup do you think it is?" She directed the question to Enid who didn't have her usually smart reply.

"It's just cold water," Maud quietly mumbled hoping for Enid's usual addition of 'with a side dish of disgusting' but nothing occurred. She just looked into the soup as if she was staring into a mirror. Her eyes were glazed and neither girl really knew how to handle the situation.

It was only when the bell went for them to go to Miss Bat's room for chanting class that Enid finally spoke. "I'll see you guys later." Five words were all they managed to get out of her the entire lunch hour. Mildred turned to Maud as Enid disappeared from sight. "What are we going to do?"

"I don't know Millie," Maud offered, collecting their plates into a pile and placing them on the dish racks for washing. "But maybe giving her some time would be the best thing. Mistress Broomhead was pretty brutal and you know Enid isn't really the talking-about-her-problems type."

"I suppose so," Mildred agreed before the pair made the journey to chanting. "I just wish she'd talk to us about it." Then it hit her. "I know! We could go into her room tonight to check on her. It's Miss Drill on duty and after how busy the teachers have been with Broomhead she'll be too tired to check more than once." Maud looked a little dissatisfied with the idea. "Come on Maud we have to do something."

"Girls!" Called Davina as her hand ushered them to her domain. "Come on we're about to start." Mildred looked to Maud again as they took their seats. "Fine!" She sighed as her glass slipped down her nose. Adjusting them she noticed something, their class was missing one person in particular. "But where is Enid?"

Miss Hardbroom walked through the school corridors aiming for her beloved potion laboratory. She was seeking sanctuary, a place where she could brew something to stop the dizzying sickness that had engulfed her ever since Hecketty Broomhead dared to set foot within Cackle's Academy.

Placing a hand to the wooden surface and slotting in the key from her chain, she felt the handle accept its entrance and click to welcome her home. Constance quickly stepped inside and closed the door, leaning backwards against it as she took in a deep breath and closed her eyes, enjoying the silence. Until she heard the stifle of a cry and her eyes snapped open, following the noise to her sanctuary's intruder.

Sitting at the front of the room with her knees against her chest and her arms around them was Enid Nightshade. The trails of dry tears still obvious on her face. "Enid Nightshade what on Earth are you doing in here without permission and more to the point how did you get in here in the first place?" She barked making Enid stand to her feet nervously to explain herself. "I used a spell to unlock the door... I just wanted to be alone I guess," Enid responded simply, taking a sudden interest in her shoes.

"Well," she spoke making Enid's eyes flicked upwards though her head hung low. "Since you're here now how about you tell me why you felt the need to break into the potion laboratory." Her arms crossed as Enid tilted her head back to look the formidable teacher in the eye.

Her parents had always taught her that honesty was the best policy. Although this piece of advice had gotten her into trouble on more than one occasion she knew that Miss Hardbroom had the uncanny ability to tell when a student was lying and shuddered to think of the consequences for doing so. "I wanted to apologise," Enid began. "I failed the test on a day that you asked for perfection. I failed and I wasn't supposed to do that."

"Nobody plans failure Enid," Constance explained before taking a seat at her desk and asking Enid to take one at the front of the room. Enid did so before looking to her teacher with sad and disappointed eyes. "You don't have to apologise to me."

"Yes I do!" Enid yelled. "I need to apologise because I failed when I knew how to make the potion and because I failed Mistress Broomhead-"

"Are you sure?" Constance interrupted, making the student raise her eyebrows into her fringe in confusion. Constance knew that Enid had felt the need to make her peace, even though Miss Hardbroom didn't blame her one bit for what unfolded earlier within the same walls they sat between now. Truth be told, she blamed herself.

"What?" Enid asked, wondering if her potion teacher had been listening at all.

"Are you sure that you can change the colour of a feather from black to white?" Constance asked before taking a black feather from the top of her potion shelf and placing it on her table, clicking her fingers to light a fire under the cauldron sitting in front of her pupil. Enid looked to her teacher with a small smile tugging at the edge of her lips. "I asked you to try again but you never got that opportunity so here is your second chance. Change the feather's colour."

Enid nodded her head before removing her potion book from the table and opening it to the correct page. Miss Hardbroom flicked her wrist and a pile of fourth year potion examinations appeared on her table. Both the teacher and student worked in silence. The only noises breaking it the scribble of Constance's quill against the workbooks and the odd sizzle from Enid's cauldron. Neither said a word until Enid rose her hand.

"There is no need to raise your hand when it is only you and I inside the classroom, Enid." Constance noted without lifting her eyes from what could only be described as a disgrace to the potion making profession if ever she saw one.

"I'm Sorry Miss," Enid apologised. "Force of habit."

"A good habit," Constance mentioned before sweeping her papers away from the table and to her desk in the staffroom leaving nothing but the single black feather. "Well go on girl we don't have all day." Enid smiled before taking her brush from the potion and painting her finger. She swept it in front of her and the feather floated above the desk an angelic white.

"That's more like it," Constance smiled before pointing her famous casting fingers to the feather and commanding it into the hands of her pupil.

"Clean up and lock the door on your way back to class." Enid nodded her head and began collecting the left-over ingredients for the shelf. "And Enid," Miss Hardbroom continued. "You shouldn't take Mistress Broomhead's comments to heart, I never did." It was a lie but just what her student needed. When Enid nodded her head in understanding Constance crossed her arms and took her leave.

Miss Cackle peered through the key hole and into her staffroom. Hecketty was still reading their personnel files and as the turned another page with a shake from her head Amelia wondered how grim their conversation would be.

Suddenly the person she had summoned with a charm appeared at her side. "She's ready," Miss Cackle announced as Constance nodded her head and raised her hand to knock on the door. "Come in!" Hecketty called before her fist had even made contact. Together they entered the room and took a seat, waiting for an uncertain fate.

Mildred sat uncomfortably in her chair as Miss Bat demonstrated their latest chant in front of the class. Luckily her volume was enough to overpower their whispers. "Maud I'm really worried about Enid."

"We'll look for her later Millie," Maud explained. "I'm sure she's just sitting in her room or is in the library reading."

"Maud you are the only person I know who runs and hides in the library," Mildred joked though Maud's blank reply made her smile face and her attention return to the front. The door to their chanting class opened suddenly and Enid stepped inside making Miss Bat seize her demonstration with her hands still high above her head. "Enid, dear where have you been?"

"With Miss Hardbroom... I'm sorry I'm late," Enid explained, her chanting book and white feather huddled in her arms.

"Well then take a seat," Miss Bat replied with a kind smile.

"What did HB want?" Ruby asked leaning forwards in her chair so her head appeared between Mildred and Enid. "Just to talk that's all."

"Just to talk?" Millie asked. "Enid, HB isn't much the talking type."

"Look just shut up will you?" Enid whispered harshly, hitting Maud, Mildred, Ruby and Jadu like a slap in the face. "It's nothing for you to worry about so just leave it."

"Everything alright, girls?" Davina asked when she noticed the girl's had not been joining the ballad like the rest of her class.

"Fine Miss Bat," Maud replied on behalf of the group. Enid didn't sing for the rest of the lesson, all she did was twist the stem of her feather between her fingertips and reminded herself that her conversation with Miss Hardbroom was not a dream.

The tension inside Miss Cackle's office could be cut with a blunt knife. Constance and Amelia sat in silence as Hecketty Broomhead finished her inspection of the final file she held between her hands. Neither said a thing but they both kept their eyes forward and waited anxiously for a result.

Constance was particularly uncomfortable. She always enjoyed silence because it meant order and solitude, something she had grown up to embed herself in. But this waiting was slowly killing her. Every second she sat in that chair was another memory she had to force back into the shadows. Every time she looked the woman in the eye was another flashback to a time when she believed everything would be fine and what ended up the exact opposite.

Finally the file fell to the table with a slap making Amelia and Constance jump as the sound shattered the silent cocoon the two had been sitting in. "Cackle's Academy is a disgrace!" She cursed. "The teaching is awful! The students are failures!"

"We did make some changes since your – "

"Well, Miss Cackle!" She interrupted. "Changes have been made but I do not believe them. Do you honestly expect me to believe that the girls have changed this much since my last visit?" There was no reply. Amelia's head and shoulders stooped a little and Hecketty Broomhead noticed instantly.

"I have inspected a number of schools, Miss Cackle, all of which tried to pull the wool over my eyes. But I'm afraid that I am more than capable of removing it myself! Do you think Constance that I wouldn't have felt the magical presence all of your girls had? That I wouldn't feel the magical field that surrounded them?"

"Mistress I – "

"No," She interrupted. "You would have gotten away with it if you didn't underestimate my abilities as an inspector." Hardbroom nearly rolled her eyes.

"Mistress Broomhead –"Amelia tried to interject.

"No Miss Cackle. Didn't I teach you everything you know Constance?" Again the evil witches gaze turned towards her making Constance feel as small as the day she knelt in the courtyard, looking to the pile of ashes that once were her most precious belonging while Mistress Broomhead smirked with glee from above in her chambers.

"Didn't I teach you that when you make a change you need to have it be consistent! How could you have a music class play so well when music is not in the curriculum? Only chanting and the chant lyrics inside your file are not traditional nor are they appropriate."

"We like to allow the girls to express themselves – "Miss Cackle tried to justify.

"By lying to their superiors and using books of forbidden magic!" Broomhead lashed standing to her feet and stepping around the desk so she was directly behind Constance's back. Constance closed her eyes for a slight moment before opening them again, she told herself to breathe slowly and be confident, though her eyes lacked any form of emotion as the headmistress leant to speak directly in her ear. Amelia almost stood to her feet and grabbed the inspector by the shoulders to throw her to the ground but it was as if her hands were tied to her chair, she was powerless to stop her.

"If you were trying to deceive me I thought you would have done a better job. I wasted years of my life teaching you magic and what do I get in return?" Finally Broomhead retreated back to behind Miss Cackle's desk allowing Constance her personal space once more.

"I get a washed up apprentice who can't even protect their own school!"

"Yes I can!" Constance erupted with sudden courage as she stormed to her feet with determination in her eyes. "And I will."

"How Miss Hardbroom when I am closing you down?"

"You wouldn't," Miss Cackle sighed as she stood to her feet.

"Sorry to burst the bubble." Hecketty opened her folder and took pen from her pocket. Just before the pens tip reached the parchment it disappeared from her hand making the hardened mistress reach for another. This time the paper disappeared, closely followed by the second pen. "You are stepping over the line Miss Hardbroom!" She yelled slamming her hands on the desk in front of her.

"You are a disgrace to me, the school and yourself! It's time you were all taught a lesson!" Her hands grasped each other as her eyes closed and Amelia's eyes flicked to that of her deputy's, hoping for some sort of response. "I hope you believe in what you say Constance," Hecketty smirked, opening her eyelids to reveal nothing but a black pit of darkness within. Constance's eyes opened widely as her breath caught in her throat, she remembered that look all too well. "Because Cackle's Academy is about to be wiped clean from the face of the Earth!"

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><p>AN: So what do you think? Good? Bad? Other? Thanks for reading :) Oh and we find out what will Broomhead did to Imogen in the next chapter.<p> 


	7. Non  Witch No More

**Thanks once again for the amazing reviews and encouragement :) I re-read all of your comments all the time when I get stuck and they just help push past the writers block. Speaking of writers block I got a little of that on this chapter because it is kind of the pen-ultimate part of the fic and I wanted to do it justice.**

**I'd like to thank Restless Seas for their beta-reading of this fic and I hope you enjoy this chapter and that it was worth the wait.**

**Chapter 7 – Non-Witch No More**

Davina Bat thought she had beaten back everything Cackle's Academy threw her way. She had seen hundreds of students graduate, aided her headmistress during times of distress, and created multiple remedies and medicinal potions to heal wounds and aid recovery. She had felt intense pride in each student for trying their best, giving everything their all and, most importantly, awoke each morning with a renewed hope that today would be even more wonderful than the last.

Though, as she awoke that morning with a less that happy demeanour, Davina understood that today would probably pose the greatest threat in the Academy's history. She thought they had done enough but obviously this woman's thirst for perfection was much larger than they anticipated. Perhaps Constance was right, that there was truly nothing they could do to stop her. That very thought made Davina realise that today would not be more wonderful than yesterday and that perhaps, in all her years of teaching service, it would be the worst she had to endure.

The last thing that Davina or any other staff member wanted to see was Castle Overblow become nothing more than an abandoned Castle, left to rot and wilt like a rose left in the sun on a hot day. No, the castle meant too much to them for that. They would fight for it, like the kings and queens, wizards and witches that fought for its possession before them, they would fight to keep the academy the way it was and hoped they would succeed.

Imogen Drill felt the same way as she stood in the walkway watching Miss Bat's class. It became obvious that the spell Miss Hardbroom had cast was slowly wearing off and, from the odd shaking of Davina's hands or the mistake she played on the piano, that she was feeling the looming decision on her shoulders.

Although Imogen knew the feeling it was the question burrowing deep into her mind that drew her attention. How did Constance meet these impossible-to-achieve standards by herself? Did she meet them at all? And if she didn't then what hope did they really have of meeting them themselves? Though, deep down inside, Imogen knew that the answers to the most important questions like these would always remain hidden.

Constance Hardbroom was the kind of person who only let you see one particular side of her story, keeping the rest hidden from view like a brick wall that surrounded her soul. She supposed that very few people in her life had ever made it past her defences enough to see the true her and those who were fortunate enough to earn that trust, she suspected, were never granted it more than once.

Keeping part of your life hidden from other people was something that Imogen, sadly, had become accustomed to. Every term break she made the long journey home to visit her parents and every time they asked her how her students were doing, what the other teachers were like and how she dealt with the stress of living inside what they deemed 'a rusty and cold old castle that should have been demolished to build a proper school years ago'.

Even though she loved her parents Imogen kept the truth concealed from them. She answered questions with an 'it's good' response or talked about her other staff members as 'committed, kind, caring, energetic and traditional people who she admired' which wasn't stretching the truth too far. She didn't tell them her students were witches, that the deputy headmistress taught potions or the headmistress taught spells, that she was the only non-witch inside the school grounds and the schools chanting teacher drank fermented yaks milk from Mongolia for breakfast. She supposed that they would strap her in a jacket and have her carted off to the local mental asylum for seeing hallucinations if she ever did tell them the truth.

It was then she realised that just like she was protecting her image from her parents Constance was protecting her own in the school. Maybe Constance's past was that dark, that distressing that it was better they not know the truth. Maybe she was protecting them from something more. Maybe she and the formidable potion mistress weren't that different after all.

Suddenly Miss Bat's head appeared through the door, her baton tucked tightly behind her ear as the sounds of girls talking invaded the previously silent corridor. "Have you heard anything yet?" She asked but Imogen shook her head. "No I..." She stopped, suddenly stumbling backwards before steadying herself against the castle wall with her left hand, as if hit with a dizzy spell from standing too quickly. Davina hastened outside and helped to steady her non-witch friend whose eyes grew vacant. "Imogen? What's wrong?

Miss Drill's right hand shook as it pressed against her head to try and stop the spinning. "Imogen?"

"I...d-don't...know," she answered before her eyes closed and her body straightened. Davina's head tilted slightly to her right as she inspected her colleague's strange behaviour. She looked like she was asleep on her feet. Her face relaxed, eyes heavy, feet glued to the floor like a statue. Miss Bat's own eyes opened wider when a black veil of mist surrounded her friend's body. She took a step backwards, trying to say something but her voice was caught in her throat. "I-I-Imogen?"

A sudden surge of magic exploded from Imogen's body hitting the Chanting Teacher in the chest and sending her flying through the wooden door and to the other side of her classroom. "Miss Bat!" Mildred called as she and Maud rushed out of their seats to help the teacher to her feet. "Are you alright, Miss?" They asked but Davina did not answer. Carefully she moved in front of the group of girls who were now looking at Miss Drill with uncertain expressions. The PE teacher's eyes were nothing but a black abyss. No iris, no eye ball, nothing.

Imogen's hands slowly began to rise, pointing her fingers towards the group of terrified students standing before her. But then, something happened, her hands began to quiver and shake as her eyes returned to their original form. "Davina, get Const..." She begged before the darkness returned and her body disappeared.

"Miss?" Maud asked making Davina release a held breath and snap to attention.

"Yes, yes I'm fine girls. But I need you all to stay here and lock yourselves in. I will be right back."

"But Miss Bat," Mildred dared to reply before Miss Bat took a hold of her shoulders in her hands and looked at her dead in the eye. Mildred looked back to the frightened witch whose eyes had seen so many things. "This is dangerous. I need you do what I ask. Please girls." Mildred and the others agreed before she ran briskly out the door and heard it lock behind her. Yes, Davina knew that today would not be as wonderful as the last because it could be the most dangerous of them all.

"What did you do?" Demanded Miss Cackle, her eyes burrowing deep into Mistress Broomhead's. But, unlike the students who would turn away from the headmistresses penetrating gaze she just smiled. "Don't you know that witches are supposed to see all?" She questioned while Miss Hardbroom fought back the urge to punch the woman square in the face. "Goodbye Miss Cackle, Constance, I hope to never see you again," and with that she crossed her arms and disappeared.

Constance walked to the fireplace and held herself upright using her spell casting fingers. She faced away from Miss Cackle and refused to look the older woman in the eyes for the simple reason that she needed time to replace her mask. She looked to the ceiling to conceal the tears that threatened to fall when she heard Amelia's shoes shuffle on the floor and felt her eyes waiting for a response.

"Constance," Amelia began softly, turning to face her Deputy's back. "What was the spell?" Miss Hardbroom turned around her eyes holding unshed tears. Amelia opened her mouth to say something she closed it just as quickly. Constance blinked twice to remove the last fragments of her watery gaze before she released a slow breath. "It's most likely a possession spell."

"Possession spell?" Amelia sighed, her eye brows furrowing together. "But who..."

"Miss Cackle!" Davina hollered as she smashed through the office door and almost landed on the Headmistress. "It's Imogen she...I... we"

"For goodness sake Miss Bat spit it out!" Constance screeched.

"Imogen's eyes turned black and then she attacked me with magic she was about to attack the girls too but..."

"But what, Davina?"

"Her eyes, they went from black back to normal, she told me to get Constance and then she just disappeared." Amelia looked to Constance again for guidance, even though she internally punished herself for relying on her deputy when she already was overburdened. "Mistress Broomhead must have used an activation spell. She must have cast a possession spell on Imogen but then made it lie dormant inside her body until the activation took effect."

"What do we do?" Asked Miss Bat, looking to her supply closet haven with distant eyes. Now was definitely not the time to hide in a wooden closet with stationary supplies when Imogen and the rest of the school was in danger.

"I need you to evacuate the girls, Miss Bat. Take them outside the castles front doors and shut the gate. Bring Mr Blossom and Ms Tapioca with you. Meanwhile, Miss Hardbroom and I will try and fix this."

"Okay," Miss Bat exhaled before she began running through the school corridors again. Ignoring any rule that Constance had lectured her about the days earlier. Now was not the time for walking through the corridors.

"Constance is there another spell we could use to negate the effects of possession?" Miss Cackle questioned but Constance shook her head. She started to explain that there was only one way to remove a possession spell when she felt something penetrate from her side and force her to the stone cold floor.

Amelia turned to see the floating figure that had just entered her office whose black eyes penetrated into the very depth of her soul. "Mistress Broomhead," Amelia addressed sincerely as possible even though she wanted to spit the name from her lips like a curse word her students should never utter.

Imogen's feet landed on the floor and she smiled. "So... Constance figured it out." Her eyes wandered to the Deputy Headmistress who was trying to make her eyes focus. Amelia tried to rush to her aid but another magical attack sent her flying to the back of the room. Constance's head snapped up and before she was on her feet Imogen sent another attack to the deputy. Constance fell, this time hitting her back against the stone archway of the small fireplace. "Come on Constance, I thought you would do better than this!"

"The feelings mutual," Constance replied, standing to her feet and staring the formidable Mistress down like a bullet waiting to be fired. Her spell casting fingers shook as the smirk wiped clean from Imogen's face. "You know what I'm talking about... hiding behind the body of an innocent non-witch? Is that what your standards have been reduced to?" Constance asked, stepping just two meters in front of opponent. "And you say I am incapable of protecting myself. At least I can do it unaided."

"We will see!" A sudden beam of dark magic flew towards Amelia making Constance conjure a shield of purple mist half stride to protect her friend. Once her second foot joined the first, she checked that Amelia was alright by flicking her eyes in that direction. A stifled groan was enough to suffice for now. They both had bigger things to worry about. "Purple, huh." Broomhead muttered, making Constance's eyes snap back to Imogen Drill's lifeless ones. The sudden muttering about color gave Broomhead enough time to release one hand from casting the dark beam and taking it to her back out of sight. "Wasn't purple your mother's favourite colour?"

"Don't you dare talk about her!" Constance snapped. "You have no right!"

"Oh but I do Constance," Imogen's lips curled into a smile once more as her right hand lifted itself slightly into the air, causing one of the chairs to the potion teachers left to levitate silently. "Or have you forgotten that you answer to me?"

"I answer to no one-" the chair smacked straight into Constance's side making her land on the floor in a heap, her shield evaporating into vapour and Imogen stopped her attack and stepped forwards. She knelt down to the shaking Deputy and held her hand ready to administer the final blow.

Amelia tried to move but the pain that struck her lower back from the ungraceful landing earlier prevented it. Constance turned her head to look into Imogen's eyes when suddenly they closed and upon re-opening had become their normal colour. "Constance, help me!" Imogen begged, "I can't stop her for long!"

"She's used a possession spell on your mind. I need you to keep on fighting against it."

"I can't Constance," Imogen admitted before Constance knelt forwards on her knees and took the PE teacher by the shoulders. Imogen's normally confident green shade had completely faded. Her confidence was gone and it was nothing but pure fear that replaced it. "You can," Constance spoke. "I am going to break you out of this but I need you to try and get back control of your mind."

"Okay, I'll..." Imogen stopped, clutching her hands to her head again as her eyes closed. Constance stood to her feet watching as her eyes opened and Broomhead regained control once more. She stood to her full height, staring Hardbroom in the unflinching eyes before she disappeared.

"I wonder what happened to Miss Drill," Mildred mused making the others question the same thing. Even Ethel had no response which was unsual for the girl who always pulled a sly remark at any given opportunity.

"Whatever it is it's not good," Maud responded seriously, adjusting her glasses. "I've never seen eyes like that before." The others agreed silently.

Although their time on this earth was limited to how young they were the girls never thought, in all their wildest imaginings, that such dark magic existed. All girls knew that magic was not to be used for selfish or trivial ends. Maud repeated it frequently enough when they were stepping out of line. But, if such dark magic could exist in the universe and they had no means of protecting themselves against it, then what was the purpose of their lessons in the first place? Hundreds of books told stories about good versus evil and most ended with a happy ending. Though, as Miss Bat burst through the door, her hands shaking on the door handle and her hair in its abundance of strangled curls, the girls realised that not every story ended with 'happily ever after'.

"Girls quickly follow me!" Davina ordered as the girls stood from the floor, wiping down their uniforms. "We have to evacuate the school." Her outstretched hand ushered the girls to the door where they exited with haste. Enid doubled back to pick up the white feather Constance had given her making Miss Bat call for her to hurry. "I'm coming Miss Bat," she replied before rushing out the doors with the others.

The small congregation followed down the corridors until they reached the library where Miss Bat stopped and rushed inside. "Girls! Everyone we are calling an emergency evacuation of the school now. Leave your belongings here and go to the outer courtyard beyond the school gates!" Girls dropped their books and followed Miss Bat's orders as the chanting teacher took a deep breath and closed the door.

Sybil Hallow and Clarice Crow had decided to use the spare time inside Miss Cackle's abandoned spell room while the others practiced inside the library. One of the reasons was because there were so many students the girls felt cramped, the other was Sybil was afraid of failing in front of so many students. A tear welling in her eye made Clarice suggest the room which seemed like a good idea at the time but that was until they saw what appeared to be Miss Drill without eyes at the end of the corridor. "Miss Drill?" Clarice spoke though the figures menacing smile made her shiver.

"Girls what are you doing here?" Davina asked when she too saw Imogen Drill standing at the end of the corridor. "Girls get to the outer courtyard with the others."

"But what about..."

"Just go!" She snapped, making Clarice drag a now unsettled Sybil through the doors behind them.

"Mistress Broomhead you must stop this," she spoke confidently, keeping her feet as still as she could inside her boots and her eyes focused on the figure before her.

"And who are you to tell me what I must and mustn't do?" Miss Bat had always been passive when it came to conflict. She hated arguing with other people and the only one whom she truly had confrontations with was Constance Hardbroom. Perhaps it was their personalities clashing. Davina's being so carefree and easy while Constance's was so restrictive and difficult. But this time Miss Bat was not going to retreat to her cupboard and hide from this torturous woman. Not only because there was no cupboard for her to use but because she couldn't stand it anymore.

"I am Imogen Drill's best friend at the Academy that's who!" A dark ball of magic flew her way but Davina managed to stop the attack before it reached her. "And I will not let you use her as a-a shield for your own p-personal gain anymore."

"Is that so Miss Bat," Broomhead spoke, almost spitting the last word, before commanding her puppet to shoot several attacks towards the defenceless Chanting teacher. Davina managed to stop the first three but the final two landed a blow, causing her to fly through the air once more and rest against the Potion Laboratory doors. "Well you look like nothing but a scared little witch to me," Imogen knelt before her friend, Broomhead's voice echoing in her ears. "And a true Witch should never be scared."

"Leave Miss Bat alone!" A voice shouted, filling Miss Bat with pride and fear. Imogen Drill stood to her full height, looking to the student with a smile on her lips. "Ah, yes, Mildred Hubble. Finally I get a chance to remove the worst witch in existence myself."

"You need to stop this Miss Drill!"

"Miss Drill isn't here anymore. She is trapped in her own mind and has succumbed to the dark magic that courses through her veins."

"Then who are you?"

"You didn't score highly on comprehension did you," she scoffed making Mildred's eyes open at the realization.

"Mistress Broomhead," she sighed. "You're the one who's taken over her mind? But you aren't allowed to use magic for personal or trivial purposes."

"And you are not supposed to talk to a senior witch about questioning the code." Mildred didn't know what made her re-enter the castle. The others had told her not to, that it was too dangerous but she didn't listen. Now she was about to pay the price. Miss Drill's right hand rose high into the air as the black mist surrounding it pooled in the centre ready to be released. "You have been given too many chances by Miss Cackle and her staff. It will be my pleasure to wipe your burden from their shoulders."

"Mildred! Run!" She screamed but it was too late. The black magic shot from her hand before Davina could even get to her feet or before Mildred could make a run for it, eclipsing the hallway in absolute darkness.

The dark mist overshadowed the area making it impossible to see the hallway itself much less the student targeted for attack. Then, all of a sudden, a breeze flew through the hallway carrying the mist with it revealing Miss Hardbroom standing before Mildred with her spell casting fingers forward and arms outstretched. "Miss Hardbroom, I've never been so happy to see you before," Mildred beamed, resisting the urge to hug her teacher until she couldn't breathe anymore.

"And I thought that when we said 'evacuation' you would actually follow instructions for once." Hardbroom replied, returning her arms to her sides while Miss Cackle knelt next to Davina near the door. "Are you alright, Davina?"

"I'm fine Miss Cackle," she sighing a breath of relief. Amelia straightened her back and eyed Mistress Broomhead who was now between both herself and Constance. "Mistress Broomhead!" She hollered making Imogen's soulless body turn to face her. "You must stop this now; let Imogen regain control over herself immediately."

"Another one trying to be noble," Hecketty smirked with a shrug of her shoulders. "When are you all going to realise that you will never be in a position to..." Miss Drill fell to the ground with an almighty smash. Amelia and Constance chanted words that Mildred had never heard as a small cage, reinforced with magic, appeared to contain the now unconscious PE teacher.

"Is it over?" Mildred asked, stepping closer to look through the bars.

"No," Constance began, turning to the group that had now congregated around the iron cage. "Because Mistress Broomhead's spell was cast on a non-witch then Miss Drill has to internal magic to combat against Mistress Broomhead's. The only thing she has is her will but even that won't be strong enough."

"Then what do we do?" Asked Davina.

"I need you to accompany Mildred back to the others," Constance explained making the chanting teacher stand next to the girl. "Miss Cackle, you must stay here and continue using magic on the cage's bars to make sure she doesn't wreak any more havoc. The only way to free the magical bond over her is to defeat Mistress Broomhead."

"But Constance..." Amelia interjected, trying to convince her deputy to be reasonable. "There must be another way."

"There isn't," Miss Hardbroom lied. There was another way to remove the spell from Imogen but it involved the death of her body, making Broomhead have no other option but to remove her control. But there was no guarantee that after the PE teacher died that she could be resuscitated back to life.

So this was the only option. Constance Hardbroom had to face the woman that killed her innocence as a child and forced her into a life she did not want to live. And although all of the people before her were offering their magical abilities to help in her plight she could not take them. This was a challenge that she needed to face alone, not only to protect the school but every student that lived within its walls. If she was to be defeated then she would rather it be her and her alone. Living with the guilt of another human beings demise wasn't something she coped well with, and the thought of it being anyone in the academy made it worse.

"I will summon her to the great hall, we will have our confrontation and when I succeed Miss Drill will return to her normal state."

"But what if you lose?" Miss Bat's voice quivered.

"Get the girls to a safe place away from the school." Constance turned on her heel, Amelia following her closely. "Constance..." she stopped and turned once more to face her kind-hearted employer. "Please be careful."

"I thank you for your concern Amelia, though it is not necessary." And with that she hastened down the corridor and out of sight.

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><p>AN: So the ultimate face-off between Hecketty and Constance is up next! Thanks for reading.<p> 


	8. Angels Are Crying

**AN: Hello again everyone and thanks for the ongoing support for this fic. **

**Well this is it, the ultimate battle between Hardbroom and Broomhead. As you can see this chapter is the longest I've ever written for a fan-fiction squaring off at 6500 words, every one of which I'm proud of. Thanks to Restless Seas for their beta-reading of this chapter.**

**There is only one more chapter to go but it probably won't be updated until after Christmas and possibly New Years. So, from the bottom of my heart, I want to wish everyone a very Merry Christmas and Happy New Year!**

**Note: I'm using 2011 as a base year for date of birth calculations.**

**Enjoy.**

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><p><strong>Chapter 8 – Angels Are Crying<strong>

Constance placed her hands on the old wooden doors that protected the Great Hall. She had never truly acknowledged their beauty until this one moment. She had walked through that threshold, stood on the stage, felt the sun shining through those stained glasses windows and gazed at paintings of witches gone by so many times in the past. But she had never truly cherished those little things...until right now.

Finally willing her arms to push the doors open she stepped into the sacred hall and closed her eyes, drawing support and safety from the surrounding air and releasing it slowly. Her racing heart thumping loudly against her ribcage Constance tried her best to clear her mind and remain calm. For it was in this place; where she shared so many memories, both bitter and sweet, that her confrontation with Mistress Broomhead was to pass.

The spell she was about to cast was a change to the retrieval spell her tutor had taught her so many years ago. The spell that she never forgot and that she learned could be used for more than just retrieving hats or brooms, it could also retrieve living people. Though, in order for the spell to be effective, Constance Hardbroom had to do the one thing she had never done before...remember.

Forming her spell casting fingers Constance placed each hand on its opposing shoulder and waited. She concentrated, moment after moment passed as she shifted through her memories focusing on the ones that were most vivid and most integral. Then her vision changed from black to white and she opened her eyes to find herself standing ankle deep in the snow.

She instantly recognised the park as the one she played in as a child. In spring the trees leaves glowed a sparkling green and Constance smiled. Oh the fun she used to have running through the park from one end to the other to try and beat her mother who let her win. Constance shook her head forcing her eyes to focus on the present and not changing the environment to something new. It was then that she saw her, the only person in the world who ever truly loved and cared for her.

Sitting on a park bench and looking to the sunset across the park; making the white snow dance to life with an array of oranges, yellows and purples, was the one and only Catherine Elizabeth Hardbroom, her mother.

"See Connie," she began, her long black hair swaying with the cool breeze that turned her nose red. "I hold you that the sunset changes the snows colour." Connie smiled before she wiped the bench and watched the snow sparkle in her hand. "It's so beautiful."

"That it is," Catherine smiled. The innocent girl turned her face to the heavens, closing her eyes and enjoying the ticking sensation that each flake caused when it touched her face. Her mother did the same only she released a breath and shifted in her seat. "Constance," she spoke making the girl return her almond eyed gaze.

"I want to give you something... for Christmas," she explained, taking a box from behind her jacket and holding it before the girl. Complete with a satin purple ribbon and white box. Connie took the box in her hands and balanced it on her knees, staring at it with wide eyes. "Well," her mother urged. "Aren't you going to open it?" She didn't need to be told twice. Constance untied the ribbon carefully before she slid the wrapping paper off and removed the lid. Sitting inside, under the protective paper, lay a dark purple beret. The beret that would soon become more than just a hat or something to wear to keep her head warm but something to remind her of a past she cherished and a life she would never live again.

A smile tugged at Constance's lips as she watched her younger selves face light up the moment she opened it. Her mouth hung open and her eyes filled with tears of joy. "Oh mum I love it!" She squealed wrapping her tiny arms around her torso.

"Your father bought it for you," Catherine began to explain, swallowing slightly and forcing the tears appearing in her eyes to retract. "We were going to give it to you together before..." she stopped, shaking her head to change her expression, as her eyes became soft and her smile drew across her mouth. She had often replaced her face of sadness with a mask of happiness but Constance was not blind.

As a child she had become very observant at the odd bicker or heated discussion her father and mother had. She knew how upset they both got about things she considered trivial, like money. Though, like most children her age, money was something that she never saw or was concerned with because as long as she had both of her parents then nothing bad could possibly happen right. She had been wrong.

When a member of the guild delivered his final will and testimony Constance saw her mother go from the fun-loving young woman who always had a smile to extremely introverted and quiet. She didn't eat, didn't sleep, and no matter how hard Constance tried to understand, no matter how many times she hugged her mother, no matter how hard she tried to make her mother smile...nothing worked.

They had grieved and moved on but both of them carried a darkened piece of their heart and a burning question in their minds. Why did he choose to end his life the way he did and was there anything they could have done to prevent it?

"I miss him, Mum."

"I miss him too sweetie," she sighed, holding Constance close and wiping a warm tear from her face. "Anyway, this is from the both of us okay." Her pale hands reached into the box and took the beret into her hands. "So you have to promise me something."

"What?"

"That you look after it okay," she stressed seriously before sitting the cap on her head with a smile. "I don't want to see it lying on the floor anywhere."

"Okay mum," Connie beamed.

"Pinkie promise?" Connie smiled before wrapping her smaller finger around her mothers, her wedding ring gleaming in her eyes for a moment before they broke the connection and Constance held her mother once more. "I love you, Mum."

"I love you too," she smiled, nestling her daughters head further into her chest and stroked her long hair. "And I always will."

A smile twitched at Miss Hardbroom's lips before she closed her eyes for a moment, feeling a dull pain entering through her temple. She opened them just in time to see the multicoloured snow melt below her boots to reveal varnished wooden floors. The line of trees she had been standing next to morphed into a wall while the other row on her right turned into a staircase leading up to the second floor.

Constance inspected the shire darkness of the room, lifting her gaze to the high ceiling and the dark corridor before she looked to her right and saw a picture of her parents. They looked so happy, standing in the middle of a lavender field, smiling brighter than the sun. Though that happy little moment was broken when lightning illuminated the hallway and thunder cracked the world's silence. The walls rumbled and photographs quivered in fear.

Then the doorbell rang, its familiar ring echoing down the hall and directly into Constance's ears. She whipped her head to the left and realised what memory this was. Her heart stopped beating in her chest as a twelve year old sock-clad Connie yelled "I'll get it!" down the hallway heading for the old oak door.

'Don't open it,' Constance's whispered, knowing that the girl was waiting to greet her mother on the other side. But, as the young girl flung the door backwards she realised the woman standing at the door was definitely not her mother. She was older, taller, straight and expressionless, the woman that would soon become her worst nightmare, oldest enemy and unforgiving tutor. Mistress Hecketty Broomhead.

Connie stood in awe of the woman in front of her as another bright flash of lightning cracked across the sky. "Hello, can I help you?" Asked Grace, a woman of twenty four who stepped into the hallway behind Constance.

Grace was using her babysitting and tutoring sessions to pay her way through university studies. She had long blonde hair that reached her shoulders and usually wore some form of black. She too was a witch and well versed inside the magical arts, in fact, she was training to become a teacher of all things. She said the reason for her ambition was to help young girls learn about how to use their magic and her long midnight discussions with Constance about her favourite subject, potions, had the younger girl in awe.

They were a friendly pair, Connie would play quietly while she studied or would even join in on the odd occasion to help her. In fact they had been reading the 'Witches Guide to Potion Making' handbook when the doorbell rang.

Grace had always been a confident young woman but standing before this witch made her stomach tie itself in knots and the air change to a sudden cool. Protectively she stood in front of Constance, her long black leather coat hiding the younger witch from view.

"My name is Mistress Broomhead," Hecketty introduced. "May I come inside?" Grace stared her down for a moment but conceded and stepped aside, directing the traditionalist into the room on her left.

Along the right hand side a fire crackled to life with the flick of Graces hands, its glow casting shadows over the room's cosy features. The lounge suits that she and her mother used to read from, the coffee table in the centre that was now covered in Grace's study books and the various photos, ornaments and shelves housing all of their family trinkets. Constance remembered reading every one of those books, every story her mother had told her about those items and never forgot about the photograph that sat on the top of the fireplace, their family portrait. Constance would have smiled if she didn't know what was coming next.

"What is it?" Grace asked, crossing her arms and standing her ground. "Why did you come here?"

"You may wish to sit down for this dear," Hecketty encouraged but Grace wasn't about to let this stranger gain the upper hand. Whoever this Mistress Broomhead was Grace knew she was bad. "I'll be fine."

"I am here to inform you that Catherine Elizabeth Hardbroom has passed away." Her voice was so null and void that Grace wondered whether it was the truth or not. She knew that Catherine had left two hours ago to visit the local cemetery where her husband was buried. It was where she usually visited each year. She couldn't have really been dead. "I don't believe you," Grace replied. "I spoke to Catherine just two hours ago."

"Death doesn't have a time limit Miss Starlight," Hecketty spoke before removing a letter from the inside of her suit jacket and holding it forwards. "Lightning hit her broom." Grace snatched the white envelope from her hands and looked to the guild wax seal preventing her entry.

"I still don't believe you," she began, opening the letter and looking to Hecketty as her fingers pulled the white contents out to the light. "Catherine is perfectly fine and whatever reason you are here-" she stopped, willing herself to read the first four words. 'Last Will and Testimony' written in by red quill.

"This can't be true," Grace denied.

"You can deny it for as long as you wish but the fact of the matter is that Constance has no legal guardian to take care of her."

"Why do you have this?" Grace asked, holding the letter in her hand. "You aren't a member of the guild so why do you have this?"

"The guild notified me. Catherine and I were very close friends."

"Funny, I never recalled her talking about you."

"Well I suppose it just slipped from her mind over the years," Hecketty's voice rose in frustration. "But according to the Will Constance is to be left under my care at the Witch Training College." Grace quickly scanned the letter to find any evidence proving this witch correct. The house, the money, everything had been left to Constance. Then she reached the line. 'My final and most important possession is that of my daughter, Constance Marie Hardbroom, whom I leave in the care of Hecketty Broomhead and the Witch Training College.'

"So you want to take her with you?"

"Yes," Hecketty answered simply before adding "as Catherine would have wanted."

Grace looked to the letter and read that one line over and over before her eyes shot forwards and her magic sent the innocent pages into the fire to burn. Hecketty tried to save them but stopped short of burning her fingers. "How dare you deny Catherine's last wishes?"

"Those aren't Catherine's last wishes at all!" Grace yelled. "If Constance is to live with anyone it is to be me."

"Well," Broomhead began, her voice deepening and her arms crossing each other. "I'm afraid that I can't let that happen."

Miss Hardbroom looked to the banister to see young Connie sitting on the stairs, peaking through the hand railing at the conversation before her, remaining as quiet as a mouse not to arouse attention. Silent tears rolled from her eyes though she didn't flinch, didn't blink. Constance wanted to take her into her arms, hold her, direct her view away from what was about to happen. For what those eyes saw in this one moment would be burnt in her memory forever.

A sudden blast of white magic made Grace fling her arms across her body and send another attack to deflect it. Hecketty quickly moved to her right, narrowly missing the bolt of light that shattered the window behind her. Recovering quickly she sent a barrage of attacks straight toward the blonde who deflected them as quickly as she could. Though when Broomhead sent one directed to her legs she fell forwards, using her hands to break the fall.

"Constance has to come with me."

"I won't let that happen," Grace spoke, making her way to her feet. "She deserves better!" Another attack sent her flying to the back wall with a smash, her hand breaking a picture frame in the process and cutting her hand.

"Constance is getting better. The Witch Training College is one of the highest witch education facilities in the world. You should trust me and allow Catherine's last wishes to be fulfilled."

"I don't know you!" Grace yelled, ignoring the throbbing pain coming from her right hand, as blood slowly dripped to the floor and landed soundlessly. "I don't know you and you didn't know Catherine!"

"Catherine Elizabeth Ravenwing, born 9th September 1949 married Michael David Hardbroom on the 18th of July 1969. Four years later she gave birth to Constance Marie Hardbroom on the 23rd of August. Michael passed away in 1984 after he committed suicide at age 40. Catherine hired you two weeks after his death to help her with the running of the house."

"You could have read that anywhere."

"Her favourite colour was purple, her favourite flower was lavender and it was inside a lavender field at midnight where she and Michael were married. She blamed herself for her husband's death and confided such things with me. I think I know enough about Catherine and what she would have wanted. Now bring me Constance."

"No," Grace replied her eyes flickering to the frightened child on the banister. "Constance! Run!"

Connie tripped as she scrambled up the stairs and to her room as Grace quickly following behind her. Broomhead didn't move but simply sighed heavily and rolled her eyes. Why did everything have to be so complicated?

Connie ran straight for her bedroom before Grace slammed the door behind them and reinforced it with the girl's nightstand. Constance watched as Grace held her in her arms, telling her that it was going to be okay, that she would think of something though her mind was a sea of panic and nothing she thought of would ever be good enough. "It's going to be okay Connie, we'll get through this."

"You should call her by her real name," Broomhead's voice echoed before her body appeared in front of the pair, making all of their preparation in covering the door useless. "Constance, child, come to me," she held out her hand as the girl eyed it off like it was covered in flames.

"Connie don't!"

"Constance if you take my hand I promise that Grace won't get hurt." Miss Hardbroom could hear her younger self's thought process. If she went with Broomhead Grace would be safe and maybe this new school wouldn't be as bad as she thought. Either that or risk both of their lives by refusing to leave, something she was sure her mother really wouldn't have wanted.

The answer became obvious when the young girl stood to her feet, removing Grace's hand from her own and taking Broomheads bony hand in the other.

Hecketty snatched it so fast that Connie was sent crashing to the floor behind her and another beam of bright magic shot directly into Grace's chest making her scream so loudly that it's sound echoed down the silent midnight street. Her body slumped sideways and landed with a sickening thud.

Hecketty turned to look at her newest pupil and offered a smile full of so much joy that it made her body reject the contents of its stomach onto the floor where she lay. Wiping the remains from her mouth she looked up into her new guardians eyes. "You'll thank me for this one day."

From that moment onwards Constance's life had changed forever. She was brought to the Witch Training College and given a dark room full of nothing but sadness and silence. She sat in her room for hours on end, Grace's screams still filling her ears as she finally realised that no one was coming for her. She would spend five years of her life sitting on this one bed, only a nightstand and a table covered in books to keep her company; and a blanket not thick enough to warm a fly let alone a human body, one that felt like sandpaper scratching against her neck when she cried herself to sleep.

Miss Hardbroom remembered the room she now stood in all too well, it was the room of her nightmares, where her tutor frequently visited and where her despair was hidden from the rest of the world. She watched as Connie lifted something from her head and held it in her hands before muttering a spell to make the beret visible.

Constance would never thank Broomhead for the childhood she stole, for killing her only friend in the world and taking her to this horrible place. She would never thank her for the midnight wake up calls; the ingredient hunts, the slaps on her back with books when she started to dose or the shire lack of anything remotely human contained within the schools walls. But, above them all she would never forgive her for burning her beret. For it was in that moment, while her tutor watched from above as she fell to her knees in the cold rain; that she took a silent vow to finish this woman once and for all and become the strongest Witch she could be. Another crack of lightning and Constance opened her eyes to find herself back at Cackle's Academy with Broomhead standing before her.

"Well," she began, straightening her skirt and holding her hands together, her shoulders back and eyes forward. "I see that you finally mastered the retrieval spell."

"I had a lot of fuel to use," Constance retorted, she had only just scrapped the surface; the headache running from temple to temple across her forehead was testament to the fact. Though she held herself together by crossing her arms into their trademark position and standing tall.

"So I assume that you remember how to remove a possession spell?"

"Of course," Miss Hardbroom replied. "Though, it doesn't matter how much you try to defend yourself after this. You will never be an inspector or a teacher again after breaking the code."

"The code is nothing," Broomhead snarled. "Their rules are too flimsy. Witches' are never to be scared and must get everything right. If I had it my way the 'code' would be a lot stricter and establishments like these would be removed permanently for allowing students to graduate under such terrible tutorage!" Constance didn't say a word; partly because she was trying to will the headache to stop she could concentrate more thoroughly, the other because she wasn't sure how to limit her years of held thoughts and remarks to only a few short sentences.

"The famous Constance Hardbroom doesn't have anything to say?"

"If my mother was still alive I'm sure she would have told me that if I didn't have anything nice to say then I shouldn't say anything at all. But because she isn't I'm an exception to the rule," Constance stood forwards and looked into her tutors eyes. "I finally understand why you told me to not to value trinkets and ideas. Because you never did as a child and because all you ever wanted was attention from your father and mother but they didn't have any time for you."

"You stop right there!"

"And now you take out that rage, that hatred, onto innocent children and force them to learn and complete tasks that no one their age should ever have to complete."

"I gave you the best education possible; you wouldn't have learned half of what you did without me there to support you!"

"Support? You dare to call what you put me through support?"

"I did what I had to do."

"And you _had _to kill my mother." Hecketty stopped but Constance's gaze was fixed. If looks could kill she would have met an early grave there and then. Constance knew the truth. Hecketty's hands began to sweat as her mouth opened to try and create a new excuse for her actions but the words never came.

"You were the one who took her away from me, the only living relative that I had left! You took her away from me and changed her Will so that you got custody of me. You killed the only friend I had in the world and the one who should have been my caregiver. You made me read thousands of potion and spell books while others did one tenth of what you made me study and it was all for your own selfish needs!" Hardbroom had to stop herself from losing her cool there and then.

This Witch was the reason that her childhood ended in such a tragic way; the reason why she didn't get close to anyone; the reason why she didn't treasure trinkets and held her emotions inside. It was all because of her. Her spell casting fingers tingled, begging Constance to let them strike her down but she wouldn't allow it, not yet.

"How could you place a burden like that on a child?" Constance asked, hoping that the quiver in her throat hadn't distorted her words.

"I did what needed to be done Constance. A young witch of your calibre would have wasted her days at schools like this! Schools that teach for the majority and not for the individual! You were capable of reading thousands of books and memorising hundred of potions; all I did was nurture your talent and make you who you are today."

"You're right," Constance spoke softly, her head weighing heavily on her shoulders and bile threatening at her throat. "When you said that...one day I would thank you... You were right." Hecketty's eyes widened in surprise.

"I do want to thank you...for making me powerful enough to defeat you!" Her hands uncurled as two bolts of purple magic flew from her hands. Mistress Broomhead quickly summoned a spell to protect herself before beginning her own assault. Blow after blow was blocked by Constance's shield. "I did teach you well."

"This is just the start," Hardbroom smiled, shooting a beam of her magic at her tutor once more. Hecketty stepped out of its path, making the now stray beam hit the defenceless school organ with an agonising bang that made Constance cradle her head in her hands. Broomhead took her opportunity making Constance hit the wall with a bang and struggle back to her feet. She threw another attack Broomhead's way she dodged it, throwing another that Constance dispelled immediately. The two were matched perfectly, one cast a spell, the other removed it, one bolt of magic threw through the air as the other defended, though neither could keep up this particular pace forever.

Constance blocked the latest attack before conjuring one of the assembly chairs to fly straight for Hecketty, who was more than happy to attack the chair itself. Another attack though followed quickly, one aimed at her legs, making the older witch come crashing to the ground. "Hiding behind your tricks again?" She questioned, pushing herself up as Constance blinked her eyes several times to make them focus.

"Well then... try this one on for size!" Raising her hands in the air Constance watched and waited, ready to rebel against whatever force this vile woman had decided to use. But, multiplying into thirty identical copies that now surrounded her in a circle was something she hadn't expected. One attack hit her back sending Constance to the floor. She propped herself up on her elbows before another bolt of what felt like electricity made her body shiver and squirm. Her vision became a series of black dots and her mind a clouded fog. She had forgotten just how strong her former tutor was and how much strength the retrieval spell had taken from her.

But Constance Hardbroom was no quitter. Cackle's Academy was under attack and she was the only one strong enough to defeat her and save her students from a life of victimisation and torture. She forced her shaking body to its knees before screaming and sending beams of her magic out of each hand, turning as she got to her feet and hit the real Broomhead, making the other copies fade into nothing. Hecketty took deep breaths as she got back to her feet. "When will you admit it Constance? When... will you admit defeat?"

"Never," she muttered quietly before the two witches shot all their magic forwards in one assault their powers meeting in the middle of the hall with an electrifying echo. "I will never admit defeat because Cackle's Academy is my home...and you...have taken more than enough of my life already!" She stood back to prevent Mistress Broomhead from pushing her backwards before pushing her body to its breaking point. Her arms and hands burned, not because of Broomhead's magic but because of her own.

Her arms shook and she fought against herself to keep them steady. She focused, tears stopping just short of falling down her cold and delicate cheeks and to the floor, she wouldn't give Hecketty the satisfaction of a tear. Tears showed weakness and the last thing Constance wanted was to appear weak.

"Miss Hardbroom!" A sudden voice yelled its volume increasing as it neared the door. Constance removed one of her hands from her central attack and quickly cast a containment spell on the room making a hurried and flustered Mildred Hubble hit the invisible shield like a fly on a windscreen. It had worked well but the price for protecting her student was Broomhead's overwhelming powers sending her soaring through the air and into the stone wall on her right.

Dust and sandstone pieces cut away as Constance's eyes squeezed shut, the pain in her head and back radiating through her entire body. She fell forwards hitting the floor boards beneath her and feeling the cold against her face and hands.

Mildred placed a hand on the invisible shield desperately wishing she could have done something, anything, to protect her potion teacher. Sure they hadn't seen eye to eye but both of them believed in protecting the school and its residents on more than one occasion. "Mildred!" Yelled Davina reaching her students side and placing her hands on her shoulders. She peered inside to see Constance lying on the ground, trying to keep herself conscious while Broomhead slowly strode to her side with a smirk.

Constance forced her eyes to open slightly and they met with Davina's worried ones. "Get out of here!" Constance tried to yell but her voice ended up a soft whisper.

"You remind me of your father, you know." Broomhead spoke as she looked down to the tired witch who was fighting to keep her eyes from closing forever.

"He tried to fight me too, that night on the roof, though obviously he was unsuccessful. The stupid man tripped over his own untied bootlaces and fell over the edge of the building." Mildred's mouth dropped to the floor at the realisation that Miss Hardbroom had a reason for always emphasising shoe tying safety.

Miss Hardbroom looked to Broomhead weakly though all she saw was a dark blurry figure towering above her. "Well luckily he managed to grab the edge," she smiled. "He looked to me with such fear in his eyes and begged me to save him but that would defeat the purpose now wouldn't it. So I did what any self-respecting witch would do... I made him fall."

Constance's eyes snapped into focus so quickly that Broomhead recoiled for the first time in her life and she had good reason. For it only took another moment before she found herself flying through the air and into the opposite wall with a smash, Miss Hardbroom quickly walking towards her with sparks of destruction and pain in her eyes. She wanted revenge, every pore of her body wanted revenge for the agony that she had put not only herself but also her mother through. "I think you've done enough damage for one day don't you?" Constance asked, turning the stone surrounding the witch to liquid that solidified over the witches arms and legs, binding her to the wall.

Then she held her hands before the witch once more, ready to make the final blow. "Constance! Stop!"

"You look scared," Hardbroom smiled. "A witch is never scared. A witch never begs for mercy. A witch is always right. A witch always succeeds. A witch never questions orders. A witch never fails," she paused. "That was what you taught me. However, it seems you need to practice what you preach." Constance closed her eyes as her hands glowed purple making Mistress Broomhead's eyes open fully and turn white once more.

Miss Cackle knelt by the cages bars. She had been feeding her magic into them while keeping a close eye on the unconscious Imogen Drill lying on the stone floor. She hadn't moved an inch which made her both grateful and worried. Grateful that she hadn't woken and begun her assault on the school and its pupils; worried that she wouldn't recover from the ordeal.

Waiting anxiously Amelia watched the non-witches chest rise and fall, hoping that it would continue in this manner and that, heaven forbid, she awoke in her possessed state, that the bars she had been using to protect them would be strong enough.

The other part of her was worried for Constance, who was no doubt in the fight of her life and for whom she expressed a deep concern and respect for. Trust the infamous deputy to face her foe alone instead of bringing others into her past and even though Amelia knew that she could have simply followed and forced her way into the battle and left the cage bars at their current strength she knew it was not her fight. Constance had to face Hecketty alone.

"Miss Cackle," a soft voice spoke, making Amelia turn and see two students standing attentively behind her. "Fennella? Griselda? What are you doing here?"

"Everything was quiet so we wanted to see if it was safe for everyone to come back into the school?" Fenella asked though Miss Cackle slowly shook her head in response.

"No girls, I'm afraid that as we speak Miss Hardbroom is trying to remove the possession spell cast on Miss Drill." Her eyes grew vacant making the girls each take a seat either side of her. "I wish I could tell you more." The two girls nodded to show they understood before turning their attention to the fallen PE teacher through the bars. Suddenly Imogen's eyes snapped open making the three of them retract away from the cage.

Miss Drill's hands encircled her head as it began to burn once more as Amelia got to her feet with her two students. "Stand back girls," she instructed, standing before them, ready to reinforce the bars should the need arise. Her body twitched and moved until she stopped, falling limp to the floor once more. "Imogen?" Miss Cackle dared, stepping slowly forwards and kneeling next to the cage once more. "Imogen."

"Yes Miss Cackle," a weak and soft voice answered before she turned her gaze to Amelia's with unshed tears in her eyes. "Is she..."

"She's gone," Imogen spoke before smiling. "I'm...so...sorry Miss Cackle... for doing all those things." Miss Cackle dematerialised the cage before taking the PE teacher into her arms. "It's alright dear but right now we have to get to the great hall."

"Here Miss Drill let us help," Fenny offered as the two students helped take the weight of their teacher on their shoulders and Miss Cackle lead the way. They needed to get there quickly. Constance had managed to save Imogen's life but what about her own?

Mildred watched in awe as a white smoke disappeared from Mistress Broomhead's eyes and she closed them. Constance stumbled backwards, the spell taking the last of her magic from her body and making her eyes want nothing more than to close for eternity. But she would never allow that. She had finally managed to defeat her tutor. She had finally wiped the smirk from her face and made her pay for so many years of pain. But right now her body craved a rest that it just couldn't have, not until that witch was away from Cackle's Academy forever.

Hecketty took a deep breath before lifting her own tired gaze. "Alright you win Constance." Satisfied that it was now safe Constance lowered the shield at the door allowing Mildred and Davina to enter. They walked slowly, staying back from the evil and relentless witch before them. "That was fantastic Miss Hardbroom!" Mildred beamed making Constance turn to face the two and smile. Then she turned back to the wall and her smile faded faster than it appeared.

Hecketty Broomhead had disappeared and it was only when the potion mistress caught a flicker of light behind Miss Bat's head when she realised how relentless this witch truly was. "Get down!"

Miss Cackle hurried down the corridors like never before. She needed to see her deputy standing tall, she needed to hear her voice telling her all was well and that the school was safe but what she desperately desired was to see her alive and well. Though the sudden yell that echoed through every corridor in the school seemed to shatter whatever hope they had of a happy outcome.

Miss Cackle rounded the last corner and entered the room, two flustered and tired students following behind with Miss Drill between them. The first thing Miss Cackle saw was Constance standing between a smirking Mistress Broomhead and a balled up Miss Bat shielding Mildred from harm. It was only when Miss Hardbroom fell forwards that they realised what had happened. She had sacrificed herself to save them.

Mildred's quiet sobs escaped from beneath Miss Bat's cloak and echoed around the hall as Mistress Broomhead smiled triumphantly from the stage. "Ah, good to see you could join us Miss Cackle," she began, as if addressing the school assembly. "Because it is my esteemed pleasure to officially pronounce Cackle's Academy –"

"No!" Mildred yelled, standing to her feet as Miss Bat and Miss Cackle rushed to Constance's aid, each taking an arm and helping her to the side of the hall. "This ends now!" Imogen stood on her own two feet allowing the senior students freedom to join their friend before she moved over to where Constance now lay and began checking for vital signs. Miss Bat looked into her eyes as Imogen smiled and held the older witch in her arms. The two shared the silent moment of understanding before Miss Bat stood and joined the rest of the group, their last line of defence.

Miss Cackle stood in the middle, Mildred and Miss Bat on her right and Fennella and Griselda on her left; each of them more determined than ever to make this woman pay for what she had done during her short visit both this time and last.

"And what do you think you can do to stop me? I am Hecketty Broomhead!" The group all released their magic, focusing on the various assembly school chairs that Frank Blossom hadn't time to move into the storeroom that morning. Suddenly the chairs light varnished wood darkened until it was as black as Miss Hardbroom's boots.

Another moment and Hecketty stopped mid cackle as the chairs burst into swarms of black bats. They circled around the hall before soaring straight to Mistress Broomhead with wings fanning the air beneath them and their screeches filling her ears. "Make them stop!" She begged, crumbling onto the floor, holding her hands to protect her face and trying in vain to hit them away. "Make them stop!"

"What's the magic word?" Mildred asked, crossing her arms and smiling.

"Please make them stop!"

"Close enough," Amelia spoke before she returned them all to their original form. A light illuminated the corner of the stage as two women restrained the witch while a third walked to Miss Cackle and held a document before her. "We will take her with us now," they explained taking it out of sight before she managed to get her glasses perched on her nose. The group walked through a portal and disappeared, leaving nothing but silence in the hall once more. It was over and they had won or at least they thought they had.


	9. Awakening

**AN: Well here we are the final chapter for Gold Awakening. Enjoy.**

**Chapter 9 – Awakening**

Imogen Drill had seen many medical emergencies in her time. Before working at Cackle's Academy she held the responsibility of First Aid officer inside a non-magic public school; where disagreements between students were resolved with fists rather than spells. She had strapped sprained ankles and wrists, cleaned cuts and sores, made emergency slings and immobilised limbs. Though looking down to the slow rise and fall of Constance's chest she realised she still had a lot more to learn.

Amelia's knees suddenly crashed into the wooden floorboards opposite her jolting the PE mistress from her daze. "Is she breathing?" Amelia asked, not even brothering to look anywhere below Constance's face. Imogen simply nodded before lifting the satin dress sleeve back so she could access her pulse. Waiting a moment while looking to her watch she turned to Miss Cackle, replacing the garment immediately. "Her pulse is steady too, though considering how hard she hit the floor it wouldn't surprise me if she had a concussion." Imogen explained; inspecting the egg shaped lump that had started forming over her pale forehead.

"Help me turn her Amelia." Miss Cackle took hold of Constance's shoulders; carefully helping lean the witch onto her left hand side as Imogen took a look at her back. Though, the minute she placed a hand on the bruised material Constance's hand lunged forwards, taking Amelia's in her grasp. Her eyes snapped open as her chest heaved with quick but staggered breaths. "Is... she?"

"She's gone Constance," Amelia replied, placing her other hand on her deputy's.

"Are...they?"

"Mildred and Miss Bat are perfectly safe." Constance's breathing regulated before her eyes closed, her hand slipping from Amelia's grasp. Miss Cackle's eyes flicked to Imogen's concerned ones as she carefully inspected the dark bruise on her back. "It looks bad but I don't think anything's broken," Imogen explained. "We'll need to get her to her room, dress the wound, apply a cold ice pack to the bump on her forehead and wait until she wakes up."

"Are you sure there is nothing else we can do?" Amelia asked the ghost of unshed tears in her eyes. This young witch had just saved the lives of two staff members and a student, all in one day. There must have been something more they could do.

"I'm afraid that's it Miss Cackle," Imogen sighed, before lowering the fallen angel to the hardwood floors below. Amelia nodded her head in understanding before Imogen placed a stray hand to her own forehead. "Imogen?"

"I'm fine Miss Cackle, it's just a headache," Imogen replied before her eyes clenched shut.

"The after effects of the mind possession spell obviously," Amelia replied. "Davina!"

"Yes Miss Cackle?" Miss Bat answered, turning from her injured organ and the three shaken students before her.

"Bring everyone back into the school, tell them to head straight to the mess hall and conjure magic pizza for dinner - then make sure they all head to bed. That includes Mildred, Fenella and Griselda here too." Davina nodded her head.

"But girls," Amelia interjected "Do not speak of this until I have addressed the school myself first."

"Yes Miss Cackle," Fenny and Gris replied sadly though Mildred hadn't taken her eyes from her teacher. Davina's hands on her shoulders snapped her from her thoughts and into the real world before she was ushered from the room. Amelia mentally noted that she would have to ask Constance to speak to the terrified student when she was well.

Early the following morning, as clouds shadowed the horizon and the tears of heaven fell onto the castle's walls, Miss Bat and her small group of volunteers were cleaning the great hall, sweeping the dust, collecting pieces of sandstone, making sure that everything would be ready for an assembly later that evening just before supper. Mildred picked up another dustpan full of debris before tossing the contents into a rubbish bag held open by Maud.

Davina herself was busy laying her hands over her organ with pipes bending in all directions and keys that now littered the floor, removed forcefully from their rightful home. She collapsed onto her stool and looked up at her beautiful companion when a tap on her shoulder made her turn. Enid held another organ key in her hand and placed it in her teachers. Miss Bat offered a kind smile before clutching the key tightly and bringing it to her chest. Never in all her years at Cackle's Academy had her organ needed repair work and it hurt her to see the beautiful instrument that conjured feelings of good-will and harmony looking so vulnerable.

Imogen Drill reapplied the cold Ice pack to Constance's forehead, right against a large bump that formed on her forehead from smashing headfirst into the floorboards after protecting Davina and Mildred. She sighed slightly, placing her head in her hands and looked to her feet. The woman that she had scolded so many times, the woman that she had questioned the authority of, the woman who she often quarrelled with was the one who saved her life...possibly all of their lives. And she never got to say thank you.

She sat silently on the vacant chair having decided to visit the witch early in the morning while Amelia ducked downstairs for breakfast. Judging by the blankets now sitting at the base of the chair she now sat in, Amelia had spent the night next to her deputy, something that made Imogen smile slightly. The connection between Amelia and Constance had always been a difficult one to define. They were not biologically mother and daughter, though not simply Headmistress and Deputy either. Imogen suspected they were somewhere in the middle between the two.

Looking around the room Imogen noted that there wasn't anything all that interesting inside the chamber. She had an old oak bookshelf full of teacher's textbooks and the odd thick novel. Her night table was bare, no photographs, no paintings, just the white sheets she lay on, the single pillow, a few empty potion bottles on the desk nearest her window and a candle near the door.

No sign of personalisation like Davina's always colourful arrangement of flowers that she intertwined through the beds head piece and changed when the seasons did. Even her own room had shoes lying on the floor and the odd piece of gym equipment here and there - but not Constance Hardbroom. The door creaked behind Imogen making her turn to see Amelia enter. "Oh hello Imogen I didn't expect you to be here."

"It's okay," Miss Drill replied, offering Amelia another chair from across the room and moving it next to her for the headmistress to sit on. "Is everything alright?" Miss Cackle questioned making Imogen release a held breath and sigh.

"I just didn't get a chance to thank her for removing Broomhead's spell."

"Yes well there are a number of things that Miss Bat and young Mildred Hubble wish to say as well once she awakes," Amelia considered before looking to the unconscious teacher lying still on the bed.

"Will she wake up?"

"Eventually, she just needs her body to heal. I cast a sleeping and a light healing spell, just to make sure that she got some rest. You know what Constance is like after all." Imogen smiled. "But how are you holding up dear? Have the headache's stopped?"

"Nearly, they are just a dull thud now," Miss Drill answered.

"Good." Imogen turned to her kind-hearted employer before she took a breath and stopped the tears that forced to flow. "Miss Cackle I'm-"

"Don't say it," Amelia interrupted, placing a hand in the air before her face to emphasize silence. "I know you wish to make your peace my dear Imogen but the peace is not yours to make. You had no control over what happened to you, or your actions thereafter, so I never want to hear you apologise for it again, is that clear?" Imogen nodded her head, replying 'yes Miss Cackle' like a student who had been reprimanded for bad behaviour.

A sudden groan made the two women stop their friendly conversation and look closer to the woman before them whose eyes began to quiver. "I think she's waking up," Amelia replied, looking to the watch on Imogen's wrist. "Yes the spell is wearing off now." Constance's eyes opened suddenly, looking to what she believed was the ceiling with blurry vision. She blinked several times, her vision focusing more each time until she turned to her right to see Imogen Drill and Amelia Cackle sitting beside her. She looked down to see she was now wearing a pair of black pyjamas that she kept in one of her drawers.

"M-Miss C-Cackle," she shuddered, punishing herself inwardly for not speaking correctly. Amelia edged closer taking the deputy's hand in hers; the only time Imogen had ever seen her accept someone else's touch. "It's okay Constance," she smiled softly; knowing that the deputy would understand that she was the one who changed her appearance. Amelia had removed her hair from her bun and allowed it to flow freely on her pillow before she treated her wounds and redressed her, making Imogen retire to bed to aid her own recovery while Miss Bat fussed with the girls and getting them to sleep. Pure relief filled her eyes.

"Hecketty's gone, Constance. She's gone." A sigh escaped her lips as she placed a hand to her head and removed the ice pack, passing it to Imogen who took it into her hands. After a moment she attempted to sit up but a sharp pain stabbed through her back and head all at once making her stop.

"Don't move, dear," Amelia cooed though the deputy refused to obey orders and sat herself up looking around at her room before Morgana walked up near Constance's left hand, demanding some attention. Constance obeyed, stroking her cat's soft fur.

"Constance, do you remember what happened?" Imogen asked, wondering if the knock to the head caused any other damage.

"Of course I remember," Miss Hardbroom replied. "How could I possibly forget?" Her eyes grew vacant making the only two occupants of the room turn to face each other with questioning eyes, more had happened inside that one room than they would ever know. "Where did she go?"

"Three witches came and took her from the school, they showed me an official notice," Amelia explained, though forgot to mention that she hadn't actually read the contents of said notice. "But either way she is gone now and we don't have to worry about her anymore. The only thing you need to concern yourself with is getting rested."

"Are Mildred and Davina alright?"

"Yes they're fine, thanks to you," Amelia sighed. "Speaking of which Constance, I need to ask you if I can bring Mildred to see you." Constance's eyes grew vacant as she remembered the look on her your pupils face beyond her protective shield, how happy she looked when she believed it was all over how frightened she looked before Miss Bat clung to her body like a security blanket.

"Bring her in."

"Excellent."

"I'll go and get her for you, Miss Cackle," Imogen offered leaving the room and closing the door behind her. Amelia sat in silence looking to her Deputy whose attention was solely focused on the black cat next to her.

"Constance...what happened in the great hall?"

"I can't tell you Amelia," she sighed, scratching under Morgana's head. "I'm still trying to comprehend it myself." Miss Cackle nodded her head silently and although she didn't understand she knew better than to push further. "Well...if you ever."

"I know," Constance replied, smiling slightly as she looked to her employer's eyes. "Thank you."

Ten minutes later Mildred entered the room with Imogen behind her. She couldn't stop the tears that fell from her eyes when she saw her or the hug that came when she wrapped her arms around her teacher's waist. Although Constance wasn't sure of how to react she placed her hands on her students back to give her shaking form some kind of support. "It's alright, Mildred," she sighed.

Millie lifted her head. "I'm sorry Miss Hardbroom, but I didn't think words 'thank you' would be enough." Constance offered a small smile as Imogen closed the door as Amelia followed her outside.

"Miss Hardbroom, I'm sorry about what happened to your parents."

"Mildred, I must ask of you just one thing." Mildred nodded her head.

"What is it?"

"Do not repeat what you heard or saw to anyone. I do not want anyone else to know about what happened in my past."

"I won't tell anyone," Mildred agreed. "But... why? Can't you at least tell Miss Cackle?"

"No," Constance shook her head. "I'm afraid, Mildred, that there are other forces at play. So please tell no one."

"I won't," Mildred replied with a nod of her head though she wondered what these 'forces at play' were. "But what about Miss Bat?"

"I'll have a talk with her," Constance replied, knowing full well that talking to the eccentric witch would bring about more harm than good. No, she would have to be more subtle. A simple potion slipped into her jug of Mongolian yaks milk would probably do the trick.

Later that afternoon, as the sun began setting the students of Cackle's Academy took a seat inside the great hall, all of them quieter than expected though Amelia expected nothing less. The news that their potion teacher and deputy headmistress had been severely injured in her plight to protect the school had brought harrowing results.

She half expected the number of pranks and misbehaviours to increase while her deputy was not there to reinforce proper school rules but none of the sort occurred. Standing in front of them now she could see two emotions scattered throughout her pupils. One was of overwhelming relief that Mistress Broomhead's presence had been removed from the school; the other was something different, a mixture of fear and worry, which only the appearance of their potion mistress would ease. Sure, Constance Hardbroom wasn't the easiest person to get along with but she was well respected and that was enough for her.

"You better get along to assembly," Constance urged making Mildred nod her head with a smile and leave the room, closing the door behind her. The moment the door clicked shut she removed the blankets from her legs and painfully moved her legs to the side, her bare feet touching the cold floor below. Urging herself to stand she braced herself against the two chairs to her right before using the wall the rest of the way. Carefully she made it to the oak bookcase where she removed one of the largest novels she owned. Upon opening the dust covered volume Constance opened the cover and smiled at the green glow that extended from beneath.

With a slight grimace she placed her fingers into the hollowed out section and removed the vile full to the top with liquid and carefully removed the cork, pouring the searing liquid down her throat and immediately coughing at its taste. Once downed she muttered a few spells and her boots appeared on her feet, the bump on her forehead disappeared from visible sight but was still there, the headache eased and her back felt marginally better though she covered it well. One final point of her spell fingers to her hair made it separate into three and plait before winding around the top of her head and fixing itself into position, ready for her appearance. With one last stroke of Morgana's fur she walked out of the room and down the corridors, knowing that she needed to reserve her magic until it recovered completely.

"Girls as you know yesterday we had an evacuation," Miss Cackle began. "Mistress Broomhead used a spell on our own teacher Miss Drill which possessed her to attack the school. We evacuated the buildings as soon as we could. The only way to remove the spell was to defeat the person who had cast it and, Miss Hardbroom, through tight adversity and her use of magical skill, managed to do just that." Miss Cackle looked to the back as Mildred snuck through the rows of students and to her seas, an act that would be cause for a detention with Miss Hardbroom under normal circumstances.

"Once she had been defeated though Mistress Broomhead attacked Mildred Hubble and Miss Bat here in the Great Hall. Miss Hardbroom took the attack on herself and now she is resting inside her chambers."

Miss Hardbroom stopped outside the great hall doors and placed her hands on their surface, the same way that she had before her confrontation with Mistress Broomhead passed. Pushing them open she stepped into the hall to see the surprisingly smiles on her students faces as Amelia shook her head ever so slightly. 'She couldn't miss assembly just once could she?'

Imogen and Davina both smiled as she walked to the front and turned to address the assembly. "I believe that this afternoon's assembly is missing a few things," she smiled slightly before putting her spell casting fingers into the air and moving them in small circles. The organ behind them was eclipsed inside a brilliant gold before its bent pipes returned to normal and its missing keys were replaced with new ones. Davina jumped into the air with glee before she ran to her organ and hugged it with her arms, causing Ethel to roll her eyes but the others to smile with happiness. Another moment and the broken cracks in the stone walls healed themselves over, the paintings of witches gone by that had been covered in dust and debris now clean and presentable. The broken chairs now pilled in the back corner now ready for use.

Stopping the flow of her magic HB crossed her arms before she turned. "Well, Miss Bat, what are you waiting for?" Davina couldn't contain the smile that spread from ear to ear as she sat down on her stool, her hands poised over its new ivory keys, just begging her to play. Then she did. With the first few notes and the girls all stood to attention and began to sing. Constance smiled as her magic did its work. The spell she had cast was not only to help mend the old organ but to remove Davina's memory of any mutterings she overheard during her combat with Mistress Broomhead. After all, Davina was hardly able to keep her own secrets let alone the mysterious pasts of others. She could have done the same to Mildred but maybe having someone else to confide in would come in handy later.

Amelia stood next to her deputy as the girls continued. "You really couldn't rest could you?"

"Not when there is so much work to do Headmistress," Constance replied, smiling slightly before the music ceased and the girls stood there wondering for what was coming next. "Well girls what are you waiting for? Don't you have work to do?"

Mistress Broomhead landed in a heap on the floor just inside her mansions doors before being helped up by two others. "Well that didn't work out very well did it?" One of them spoke, making Broomhead hit them with a bolt of magic and send them flying. "What? She's only telling the truth! Your plan to get rid of Constance and take over Cackle's didn't work!"

"No it didn't," the youngest of the group smirked, holding forwards a glass jar. Hecketty looked inside and a sickening smile drew across her face. "You found it?"

"Of course Mistress... I think it's time we try something a little more subtle." Hecketty turned with her arms crossed and began to laugh manically to the others before her. "We will meet again Constance."

~ THE END ~

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><p>AN: Thank you to everyone who has read favourited/ reviewed/ alerted this story and for giving me such a warm welcome to the world of Worst Witch fanfiction writing. As you can see I left this chapter open for another that I have planned to follow it. The first chapter of Golden Dewdrop should be up sometime this month. Thanks again to everyone and especially to NextChristineDaae for our long conversations over the Christmas period and her support and to Restless Seas, my beta-reader for this fic and who has happily agreed to help me out with the second too *YAY*

All the best til next time!

Chrissiemusa


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